Searching for a Perfect Day
by harukaze
Summary: Due to unforeseen circumstances Elsa, after a five year absence, returns home to tie some loose ends. Modern Day AU. Eventual Elsanna. Femslash. Incest.
1. Chapter One: Wednesday : Day One

AN: Relatively new to this fandom, but this plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. I'm not even sure if there is a plot so to speak…Anyway, usual disclaimers apply. Frozen and all its affiliates belong to Disney. This is an eventual Elsanna fic which obviously means that it's femslash, and although set in a modern day timeframe AU, has incestual themes. If it's not your cup of tea, I'm sure you know where the back button is located. This is your last and final warning. In an unrelated side note, what is it with me and homecoming fics? There's a certain romantic notion to it I guess. Reunions.

Chapter One: Wednesday/Day One

The seat holds little comfort, even though it's spacious, heated, and leather. She shifts, looking again at the wide expanse of clouds in her peripherals. The sun's colors are just beginning to bleed in her surroundings, painting the sky in colors of a fading bruise. Sunset. Setting, disappearing faster than usual because of her trajectory.

2500 miles. That's how far she's traveling…rounded up. Of course she's not one to ever estimate or round anything up. 2448.3 miles. Four hours and fifteen minutes according to her itinerary. Again, a timeframe that's probably rounded up. Checking on her wristwatch, she finds that only an hour has elapsed, and she could control the shaking of her legs and the trembling of her heart about as much as she can control where this plane is taking her.

"Can I interest you on a drink?"

The voice forces her attention to the aisle, hazel eyes looking back at her in question. There is no warmth there; she can see past the professional courtesy wrapped in a too wide smile. An infinitesimal shake of the head later and her attention's back to the outside world, now painted in splotches of ink, indigo, and deep purple. Stars have just become prevalent, twinkling innocently on as her mind continues its never ending assault on her fatigued body. With nothing to do and confined in a flying death trap, what else can her overworked mind do but think while staring listlessly at her surroundings.

Has it really just been two hours since that dreaded phone call?

She sometimes wished that life, fate, whatever, could give an indication for when her world would implode. She wished it would give a fair warning, like an earthquake or a massive blackout…a thunderstorm…or, better yet, a snowstorm…in the middle of May in the heart of downtown LA. No. Instead it was a day like every other one that had bled before it. The sun had risen in the east, the smog already so thick and noticeable it was hardly worth noting. She had breakfast: a cup of Greek yogurt and a bowl of oatmeal topped with blueberries. She went to class. Had little to no social interaction because, hey, it really was shaping up to be an otherwise normal day. At the conclusion of class, with no plans and nowhere to really go, she had driven home. Again, this was normal. The first indication that it wouldn't be another average day was the constant, red bleats of her answering machine that greeted her upon her arrival.

_"__You have three new messages."_

She doesn't carry a cellphone. She has one, but she doesn't carry it. No one knows the number to it, save two people…and she doesn't get calls or messages from them so often that it facilitates carrying said device. Whenever she has to jot a number down for some official looking paper, she'd always give her landline. If she wasn't home and it was important, they can always leave a message. Upon retrospect, she finds that it literally is only two people that know her cellphone number—even _she _has no clue what it is off the top of her head. In this day and age, she knows that's not normal…but then again, she's never met anyone who's ever been in self-imposed exile either. It seems there are many things about her that's archaic.

_"__This message is for Elsa Andersen. This is Jacob Greene of Populous. We've looked into your portfolio and we like what we see. We were hoping to schedule an interview for an internship here with possible hiring at its culmination. Give me a call at 415-653-3620 extension 3744. Thanks, and we look forward to speaking with you."_

_Beep._

_"__Hello, I'm Tom Schexneider of AECOM. Upon high recommendations from Professor Clemmens, we'd like to invite an Elsa Andersen for an interview in our internship program. I can't stress enough that this offer is rare and fleeting, so an answer is required within a small time frame. Please call me back at your earliest convenience and with an answer."_

_Beep._

By this time she had walked towards the sliding door of her balcony, one hand palming the smooth, cool glass. She hadn't stepped out, opting instead to stare at the familiar buildings around her, seeing nothing while her brain processed the small information from her messages. In between debating the pros and cons between two _huge_ opportunities suddenly placed in her lap, came the third message.

_"__Hello? Miss…Miss Andersen? This is Kai. Kai Akers. The…butler. I'm not sure if you remember me, but…(heavy pause)…Th-there's…W-we—god_damnit_!…(Shuffle, static, background noise)…I-I'm sorry—I apologize. I know I'm not making sense, but I need to speak with you. There's been an accident involving your parents and I can't speak candidly through a voicemail. Please. As quickly as you can, call me back. I'll be waiting."_

She hadn't even noticed that she was standing at the foot of her phone until shaky fingers prodded the caller's ID button frenziedly. With one ear hot against the handheld and her mind tumbling down dangerous roads full of uncertainty and darkness, the couple seconds waiting for the phone to ring on a line she'd never called once since her stay here seemed to take an eternity.

_"__Hello? Miss Elsa?"_

_"__What happened?"_

There had never been an instance in her life when she'd been so weak that her knees had given out from under her. She'd always considered herself intelligent, independent, and above all, collected. She'd always been able to school her emotions, even as a child. In her teenage years this proved to be her lifeline. And now, as a venerable adult, it had become second nature. This surface Elsa is who she is to the general populace: peers and professors alike. Hard worker, yet aloof. Smart, but cold. Overachiever. Cyborg. Statue.

Everyone's personal favorite? Ice Queen. A title that said nothing and everything all at once.

If anyone had borne witness to her state that warm May afternoon—her knees scrunched against cold hard wood floors and fingers clutching desperately at her chest, her body bent with what looked like the world on her shoulders—there would be no doubt in the spectator's mind that Elsa Andersen, eldest daughter of Judge Alexander Andersen and Senator Helene Andersen, was indeed human. Not a cyborg. Not an emotionless statue. And certainly not made of ice.

Human, in that she can show emotion and shed tears. Not the silent ones made for movies and aesthetics, but the heart wrenching bawl that follows the worst news a child could hear about her parents.

She could only catch snippets even though the phone was so pressed up against her ears that if she weren't so numb from the sudden onslaught of information, she'd notice how much it was painfully digging into her skin.

Accident. Drunk Driver. Freeway. Too fast. Died even before the ambulance could get there. Booked the nearest flight. Delta. Leaves in forty minutes.

She wasn't sure how she was able to collect some semblance of control in her frenzied state. She managed to collect the cellphone she never used, pull a carry-on luggage that had collected so much dust from the back of her closet, and filled it to the brim with clothes and other necessities. It took no less than ten minutes with another two spent in the bathroom looking at her haggard reflection in the mirror and splashing cold water in her face, hoping that this small gesture would tether her.

In that moment, with her light blue eyes staring morosely and resolutely back at her, she came upon the inevitable truth: she had wasted five years. Five years of holing up in the other side of the country, refusing to see them regardless of the amount of pleas that came from them both. Holiday breaks came and went. Birthdays. Christmases. New Years. Bleeding into one another in the form of just another day.

In a few years time would she still be able to remember what they looked like? Because time does that…chip away at every foundation slowly, but surely. She closed her eyes, concentrated, and relief floods her in the way that, yes, she's still able to see at least her father…and easily at that.

He's standing at the exact same spot she had been previously: the foot of the glass sliding door prior to the balcony. Instead of looking outwards, he was looking at her, his hands casually in his trouser pockets and smiling wistfully. His neat hair was combed to the side in its usual fashion with not a single strand in disarray, his mustache perfectly trimmed. The beige suit that he wore fit his tailored body, enveloping a strong physique that she had always come to expect from the head figure of her family. The sun is making a perfect backdrop behind him, illuminating his silhouette in blinding orange and yellow rays, and his eyes…would be just as bright.

_"__You're all moved in. I hope the transition wasn't so bad. The place looks nice. Did you decorate it yourself? It seems to go hand in hand…architecture and interior design. Maybe that's why you have a knack for it. Speaking of which…Anna did her senior project on interior design. Remember your senior project? Your dream home? She added to it. Took your 3-D model, plugged it in a computer, and designed every room to be chic and modern. She'll be graduating…in a week. Would…would it be possible for you to come home to see its fruition? I'm sure Anna would love to see you." _

Five years…And now, because of a circumstance that she would give anything to never go through, she'll be heading back…home. To put two people that she loved wholeheartedly to rest. To be sure all their wishes remained intact and achieved. To face her demons. To do the one thing her father had been asking for since her self-imposed exile.

_"__Come home."_

The crackle of static forces her attention to the space above her before the disembodied voice that proceeds it.

"Ladies and gentlemen we're fifteen minutes from JFK International Airport. At this time we'd like for all passengers to be seated and for all seats to remain in the upright position as we begin making our descent. I would also like to remind everyone to keep your safety belts on for the remainder of our flight and to keep all electronics turned off until we've made a complete stop. It is a cloudy fifty-seven degrees in New York tonight, the perfect weather for sightseeing for those coming by to visit. For those staying permanently, welcome home. Thank you for flying Delta Airlines. We hope to see you again real soon."

Home. A four letter word she'd chosen to give up long ago. They say home is where your heart is, and they're absolutely right.

In the five years that she had stayed in her condo, she's never called it home. It was a place with precise, almost clinical decoration and no personal touches—where everything had a use and if it didn't, it would be discarded without a second thought. It was nothing more than a roof on top of her head—walls of an enclosed space. Prettier than a prison, but holds the same amount of freedom. None. The real prison is in her head.

Her stomach makes a lurch as the plane descends not long after the announcement. It has nothing to do with being air sick, she knows that much. No, this anxiety is riddled with the thoughts of home.

It would be naive to think that everything's still the same. She's sure not a lot's changed in regards to what the house looked like. The same black gated fence will greet her. Beyond the courtyard, the flower bushes, trees, and gardens, she's sure the same red brick estate in all its tall, imposing glory will be just as she remembers it. It would only make sense that it would…Her definition of home never was a place.

She swallows the uncomfortable feeling in her throat just as the plane rattled and shook, meeting the solid ground roughly.

In thirty minutes—maybe less, she'll finally see her little sister again.

Anna.

Brighter than the sun…Her gravitational pull…Her red string of fate.

She's been in an impasse for the last five years. She was thinking it would be longer. So much longer. Forever. This meeting, regardless of circumstance, is one she would never be ready for—didn't think she'd _need_ to get ready for. She had planned it so that she could go her entire life without seeing her sister again…despite of the fact that this one action is all she could ever want.

To see her again…to be in the same room, the same house, the same space…She is vastly unprepared. And this time there'd be no mom or dad to fall back into.

The sharp click of her neighbor's seatbelt takes her out of her millionth reverie of the day and she follows suit. Her body feels heavy, taut, yet the need to stretch doesn't enter her wracking mind; too many thoughts bouncing around for something so menial as bodily discomfort.

She follows the masses after getting her one, small carry-on, Kai's words of being there to pick her up at the gate forefront in her already muddled mind. She feels she should hurry, but…what's the use?

They're already dead…It's not as if they can't wait.

Her trepidation grows with each step taken, her mind going into overdrive. It's no longer suffused only with sadness and grief. There's an addition of gnawing anxiety that she can't shake off.

What would she say? How could she explain her disappearance within the last five years? How do you justify the heartache of this magnitude to the one person that matters the world to you without sounding callous, cold, and indifferent?

She could only be glad of small favors. There's still time to wrack her brain of different possibilities of the dreaded reunion during the car ride to the estate. Twenty minutes, give or take a few minutes. She'd be able to school her features and come up with a game plan in that time, right? She'd have to. Never mind that four plus hours in the flying deathtrap didn't help at all…

She can't let Anna know.

"Elsa?"

Nothing could freeze her steps faster than hearing that familiar voice. The pronounced lump in her throat is back, magnified to the point where she can't breathe and her heartbeat is thumping so wildly against her ears in erratic rushes she's surprised no one else can hear it.

She feels like laughing mirthlessly at her situation. Small favors? No, not for her. Of course not. God could care less for giving small favors to wretched creatures like her…

Nausea swims towards her muddled mind as she finally gathers enough strength to look up, and in the time span of only a couple of seconds her eyes have already raked over the familiar figure before her, devouring every bit of information and assimilating them, filing them in her head to be dissected and pored over later.

Old habits die hard.

She's taller now, is the first thought that comes unbidden. When had that happened? But of course, Anna had only been fifteen when she left for college—hardly at the peak of growth. Elsa could see that their height difference stands to mere inches, maybe two or three to her favor. Burnish copper plaits are done in twin braids, the way the blonde had always preferred them. She can still remember countless nights in which they'd stayed in either one of their bedrooms, a random movie playing in the background while they had done each other's hairs—a pair of near matching braids, one for Elsa, always two for Anna.

The younger girl had filled out nicely, sporting fitted denims upon shapely legs and a light green blouse that accentuated her eyes.

The blonde finds that this is probably what she misses the most.

In a lot of aspects, they seem to be polar opposites since the very beginning. While Elsa had been closed off and aloof as a child, Anna seemed to make up for it with her bright, happy nature. The younger of the two had always worn her heart on her sleeve, her expressive eyes the only indication anyone would need of her state of mind.

Those same eyes are looking back at her now, apprehensiveness around their edges. She had obviously been crying, puffs of redness and a smatter of freckles peaking out from ill-disguised makeup. But more than anything she looks nervous, fidgeting in the same spot as her fingers tangled against each other in front of her in a gesture that can only be interpreted as anxiety.

Elsa would know. That's her trademark stance.

The blonde inadvertently mirrors her sister's anxiety, clutching her carry-on strap upon her shoulder like a lifeline, and only when Anna's stare moves from her eyes to her bag and then sheepishly down to the floor does she realize her mind had carried her so far away that she's pretty sure at least five minutes has elapsed since the red head had gathered her attention.

"Hello," she finally greets, and inwardly winces at the gravelly sound of her voice.

That's usually what happens to it when it isn't used in a prolonged period. She clears her throat, hoping, _wishing_ it would give her some semblance of control. But the next step seems the hardest. What's the proper decorum after a greeting? A hug seems right under normal circumstances, but…reworded…what's the proper decorum for two sisters who hasn't spoken in five years?

Indecision warred in her mind until Anna, gracious, sweet loving Anna decides for the both of them. The red head crosses the menial five feet separating them and wordlessly lifts the carry on off her shoulder, dropping it carelessly on the floor beside her where it makes a pitiable thump. Not another second passes and she's engulfed in a tight hug, strong arms enveloping her shoulders in an almost painful manner that she couldn't feel at all.

Only one thought crosses her mind.

Home. This is what home feels like. She'd forgotten how warm and secure it felt.

Her own hands automatically wrap themselves around a small, smooth waist, her cheeks finding solace on a strong shoulder. Anna smells exactly as she remembers: sunshine, hints of powdered cinnamon, and the same baby lotion she's used since Elsa could remember.

And the blonde hates how wonderful it all feels. How her body, the traitorous, one-track-mind, hormonal vessel that it is could just not get over how soft and supple the smaller girl feels in her arms. Why couldn't this just be a regular reunion where she's not berating herself of how wrong everything feels? Why can't she just think like…a sister?

This thought is what takes her into action. She steps out of the hug first, keeping in mind to not push the red head away even though her brain keeps sending impulses for her to do so. Instead, she keeps Anna at a literal arm's length, her own hands carding over the same waist and giving the younger woman what seems to be an appraising look, even though she had just done so upon first contact.

"You're so tall now." It's the first thing that comes to mind, therefore it's the first thing that slips out.

Mirth dances through her sister's eyes followed by a loud, carefree laugh. She missed that. Again, another thing to note and remember. When Anna laughed, it would be the most genuine of sounds. There's no hidden agenda, no polite stifled chuckle. Her laughter is the infectious kind, and for what seems like forever, Elsa can feel her lips curving up on their own. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this…free.

Anna nods in playful agreement. "Yep…almost as tall as you."

Indeed…

"Kai's waiting in the parking lot," the smaller girl's smile instantly drops, giving her a searching look. "What…has he told you?"

She leans towards the ground and grabs Elsa's bag, lugging it over her right shoulder and casually ignoring the disagreeing sound the elder sister makes at the action. The blonde decides to let it be and begins walking beside her, peripherals trained at the younger girl who is now busy navigating their way out of the still busy airport.

"I caught…snippets," she answers, praying for the familiar burn in the back of her eyes and the lump in her throat to recede. A mere recollection from her conversation with the butler has brought the same spiking emotions back. "Car accident…in the freeway."

"Yeah…"

She could barely hear the soft reply from the general buzz of their surroundings, but she can feel the hidden emotion laced in there.

They walk wordlessly to the exit thereafter, the blonde's mind elsewhere and her younger sister's probably in the same confusing place. She follows the red head to the car, a familiar black sedan parked off to the side and the just as familiar butler beside it.

He scurries towards them as soon as he spots them, greeting her with a strained, but soft smile while taking the bag off of Anna's shoulders and carrying it at his side.

He looks very similar from the day she last saw him, down to the same black tuxedo dinner jacket he dons at a daily basis in the Andersen estate. His hair, although still the same thick brown color, has receded as far back as it could go, but the sides are so meticulously combed over with what looks like absolute care that Elsa knows she'd never make a comment about it out loud.

Anna opens the door to the back of the car just as he's putting her small luggage in the trunk, gesturing for her to go in first. She does without question, the smell changing from cool night air pollution to fresh leather as she situates herself to the leftmost spot next to the window. The red head comes in shortly after, surprising the blonde by taking the middle seat and wordlessly clicking her seatbelt in place.

The car rocks again as Kai makes his way to the driver's seat and looks at them from the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkling at a nostalgic scene.

Unfortunately for all of them, the night isn't quite over yet, and they had just one more errand to run before retiring to the Andersen Estate for the evening, hopefully to get enough rest for a tomorrow that's promising to be just as difficult. As soon as Elsa's seatbelt is properly in place he turns his indicators on, merging into the busy New York City traffic as soon as it's safe to do so.

One whole minute into the car ride and Elsa's fidgeting. She tried to put a stop to it during the thirty second mark when she noticed just how painful her fingernail had started scratching against her cold open palm, but it was all but impossible. It seemed to be an autonomic response like breathing and blinking; she could put a stop to it, but it would continue onwards when her attention is pulled elsewhere.

Approximately three minutes in (not that she was counting), she hears a small sigh to her right and before she can question it, the red head is already grabbing her hand, first encompassing the length of it with hers so that every digit is touching and then casually swiping it to the side, before gripping it fiercely.

Anna's hands are just as cold, but they're soft and lovely, and she has to remind her heart to slow down…please, before the younger girl can hear its excited, neurotic beating.

She gives back a reassuring, firm grip,before gazing into turquoise orbs that are, surprisingly enough, staring at their joined hands, giving it such a concentrated look that it would seem it holds all of life's answers.

"Anna?" she calls, wanting to solve the mystery etched in her sister's visage.

"We're heading to the hospital morgue," she answers softly, her attention still towards their hands.

The unexpected statement freezes the older girl's bones, her back standing even straighter and her grip worsening. Anna's hold only strengthens.

"They had their IDs on them," the red head continues to explain, her voice becoming smaller and smaller by the minute. "But the hospital wants to be perfectly sure. They phoned while you were already in the air, asking for the next of kin for positive ID. I could've done it alone, but…"

She didn't let the younger girl finish. Despite the heavy protest in her mind to never let the strong hand pried against hers go, she does, twisting her body towards her sister's and pulling the smaller body into hers.

Anna easily caves in, arms coming around her waist and helpless fingers clutching at the back of her blouse. Elsa holds her firmly in place, a trembling hand rubbing a bent back and pepper kisses framing now unkempt, copper locks. It's in this forlorn state that the sobs begin, first silent for the sake of pride, face, or whatever useless, unimportant reason, then transforms into unabashed wails.

She tells the younger girl to let it out, willing her own emotions to remain placid even as her heart wrenched painfully in her chest, beating in tandem to her sister's uncontrolled breaths and heavy cries. One of them has to be strong right now, and if it was up to her, it would never be Anna for the two of them. Not if she has any say in it.

The car rumbles onwards, Kai keeping his silent vigil since the very beginning. And even though their position is uncomfortable at best, Elsa wouldn't trade the feeling of protecting her younger sister for the world. Let everyone burn. If Anna was safe, it was enough for her.

She loses track of how long they maintain their position, her hands still ghosting over the smaller girl's hair and back in random rubs. She only begins to draw back when Anna retreats first, her concern flaring upon finally seeing the defeated countenance upon a tear tracked visage. Light green eyes gaze back at her, the glitter of blue flecks upon the irises dull, tired, defeated. Sadness and desperation openly shown without a single word uttered. Another crystalline tear begins its descent, and Elsa catches it automatically, her thumb swiping over a high cheekbone and her hand folding against a smooth visage.

Her heart flutters at seeing the beginnings of calm take over her the smaller girl's countenance—at the way blue-green eyes close in near tranquility. She shouldn't love the way her breath catches as soon as her sister's hand fold over her own. Shouldn't feel elation when those same eyes open to show her vulnerability, longing, hope…

Love.

"I miss you, Elsa."

The declaration, though quiet and soft, is more than enough to break the invisible shell around them. She pulls her hand back, too fast, too roughly, and she has to look away because she doesn't want to see the pain her action has already caused her sister. She folds her hand against her chest, her attention locked to no particular point of her left peripheral. She doesn't have to see Anna's face to guess the expression marred there. She can clearly see it burning in the back of her lids: confusion, depression, disbelief. Anger?

"What—

The car comes to a well-timed stop and in what looks like one flowing move, Elsa clicks her safety belt off, opens the car door, and scrambles out of the vehicle's suffocating confines. Her heart thudded in uneven beats against her ears, sending her emotions in disarray. Pinching her fingers upon throbbing temples, she only realizes after another few seconds how rash and rude her actions must've looked.

And, Anna…

She whips her body back towards the car just as her sister's coming out, an apology close to streaming out of her lips, but regret chokes her into silence as the younger girl only stands before her, body language speaking in confusion and wariness and unable to meet her stare.

"A…Anna," she calls, hating the desperation coating her voice—hating herself even more when the red head still isn't able to look into her eyes.

This standstill lasts only a minute before the younger of the two sighs, almost imperceptibly, and finally looks up at her again, the expression there now devoid of emotion. It's so unnatural that it sends a new wave of panic coursing through the blonde, wishing in futility, that she could go back…five minutes—one!

Why is it so impossible for her to just…act human? Why must everything have a double meaning? One would think consolation caused by disparity would be utmost in her mind, but her useless brain—

The dull throb in her temples double, sending all her patience for her own self into the wind.

_Be her sister_, a condescending voice filters in her ears. _Stop thinking about yourself, be human for once, and be the older sister she deserves. _

The blonde unfastens the balled fist her right hand had curled into and places it into the space between her and her sister, disregarding the indents left by her nails against her palm. Does she mean it as a peace offering? A gesture? She isn't quiet sure herself.

"I'm sorry," she manages to say and, to her relief, this elicits a fraction of emotion in those suddenly dull turquoise eyes. She trudges forward. "I'm not…I'm not currently here. My body is…my mind is elsewhere" _Make sense. Stop babbling._ She shakes her head to the side in hopes of thinking even clearer—trying to catch the right words, berating herself when she can't gather them fast enough. "I'm sorry if I seem unreadable…and random. I'm not myself—

She cuts herself off as Anna's fingers interlock with hers and relief bubbles out from her chest when the smaller girl gives her a reassuring, albeit sad smile.

"I think I know how you feel," the red head says softly, her gaze drifting towards the imposing, grey hospital building.

Elsa tightens her grip against her sister's just as Kai steps out of the car, his eyes flittering between the two of them worriedly.

"I would be honored to come with the two of you, if you'd have me," he says softly, his eyes deferring to the ground, and it's this selflessness he's genuinely and easily showing that reminds Elsa why her father kept the old man in such high esteem.

She gives him a grateful smile, but shakes her head. She's already come to the quick and final decision that this responsibility won't fall to anyone, but her.

"I appreciate the gesture Kai, but I don't think this is an experience that should be shared."

He nods understandingly, giving her a helpless smile, before heading back in the car, shutting the door softly behind him.

Her attention falls back to her sister, understanding dawning on the red head's countenance before Elsa could even speak.

"No."

"Anna—

"No!"

She sighs and tightens her grip in their intertwined hands, boring her eyes through heated green-blue orbs.

"I'm not letting you go in there without me." And as if to prove her point, the smaller girl tightens _her_ end of the handhold even firmer, daring with her eyes for Elsa to say otherwise.

The blonde could only shake her head. "Anna, what we're going to see in there…we won't be able to forget." She pauses momentarily to let the thought sink in, finding small solace when she sees understanding cross her sister's face. "This will be the lasting memory of mom and dad that we'll ever have. I don't want yours to be tainted."

"And what? It's fair that yours will?"

She nods her head at what sounds like a petulant reply. "If I have to choose between your happiness and mine, I choose yours."

She can see that her sincere words have caught the smaller girl unaware, and she thinks it might be the end of the conversation, but being away from Anna for five years hasn't done her any favors—it seems she's forgotten just how persuasive the red head can be upon any and all circumstances.

"What makes you think I'll be happy if you won't be?"

A swift reply she means to release dissolves in her throat instead. In just one sentence the tables have vastly turned.

Her sister matches her stare evenly, blue-green eyes pleading. "When I got the call…for the ID, I knew there'd be no way in hell I could do it alone. And it wasn't just a matter of not having someone there. Please understand that. I want to see them. I want to see with my own eyes so that I can't delude myself into thinking this is just one big nightmare that I can wake up from. You're not doing me any favors by shielding me from this. If you haven't noticed…I'm a big girl now. I can handle my own burdens. And I can share yours…if you'd just let me." She breathes deeply, eyes deferring back to the ground. "Please don't be a martyr. Don't try and think you can do this by yourself. I waited so that we can face this together. I can't do it without you. I just wish…you'd need me too."

Words have officially left Elsa. What could she say as a possible rebuttal to that? It didn't matter. Her heart had lodged itself into her throat. She could hardly breathe let alone talk.

Anna looks back up and takes her growing silence for cooperation, tugging her in the direction of the dimly lit building. She could only follow wordlessly, wondering when her little sister had grown up into a mature, young woman.

O—O

She couldn't sleep.

Whenever she closes her eyes, the picture of two barely decipherable bodies marred with cuts, contusions, bruises—mangled beyond belief and repair, flashes through her mind.

But it was them. There is no doubt in her mind. It was really them.

And they were really gone.

She turns to her side on the bed, curling into a tight fetal position without a second thought. Her right hand, pushed roughly into her throbbing chest, is still lodged there, pressing into the organ now and again as her pillow absorbed a fresh wave of incoming tears.

She felt desperately lost even though the next few days had been explained to her properly by the hospital's funeral home director. Her parents would be taken out of the hospital at first light and to the funeral home where they'd begin the process of…reassembling them…to look fit and proper for the funeral service. The service itself would be on the first weekend available: Saturday, 1 o'clock at St. Peter's Church. Anything else in regards to the service itself, she would have to speak with the parish.

The whole conversation, especially because it happened right after seeing her parents' lifeless bodies, had seemed methodical and scripted. She had looked at the sallow funeral director's face and although she had read the sympathy there, everything flowed as if on script. She nodded when she needed to and supplied answers when she needed to, while Anna remained by her side during the whole event, standing stock still with their hands still clasped in an unbreakable hold.

As soon as they saw, first her father on the metal slab, then her mother, she had been glad the red head fought tooth and nail to be there with her. That hand proved to be her pillar of support. It enabled her to keep standing even as her knees buckled in weakness for the second time that day only there was no inevitable fall. It reminded her that she was still tethered to something in this world…to someone.

She had been foolish to think she could do it alone.

Her mental acuity is in this state just as her door slowly opens, the minimal light from the hallway creeping into the room before disappearing again with the soft click of the knob.

She pushes herself up the bed, albeit weakly, and sits so that her legs are folded beneath her, eyes squinting at what could only be her sister's shadowy form making her way slowly towards the bed. She grasps for the lamp light and pulls the string, illuminating the room and bathing it in a soft glow.

Anna stands before her, copper locks unbraided and falling behind her in waves. She's donning a tight fit, red NYU shirt and pajama bottoms imprinted with ducklings. To anyone else it would look immature. On Anna, it strangely fit. The minimal lighting didn't show the puffiness, the tiredness, the redness of her countenance, her eyes fixed in a possibly permanent thousand yard stare, but she knows it's there. She's sure her sister sees the exact same thing from her. Wordlessly, she pulls on her sleeve to swipe her watery eyes.

She never liked looking weak in front of her sister. She would bare the brunt of all of this if it wasn't impossible.

"You're all ready for bed," she manages to croak out, and finds that she absolutely hates her voice today.

Anna merely smiles, the sadness still there, but also playful indignation. "You're not."

She looks down at her clothes, crinkled and in disarray from laying on them thoughtlessly. They're the same ones she put on this morning with only the thoughts of going to school: a thin, form fitting light yellow v-neck long sleeve and comfortable dark blue jeans.

She matches her sister's smile and flits her attention to her carry-on standing at the foot of her bed. "I don't think I brought night clothes."

She could barely remember what she had packed to begin with.

"I figured."

It's only then that she notices the bundle in Anna's arms. She reaches for them just as her sister leans forward, the two of them meeting at the edge of the bed momentarily. She graciously takes the clothes off of the red head's clasp, bringing them to her chest and without thinking breathes the scent in.

Anna.

"Th-they're my old clothes," the smaller girl explains in a stutter. "Well, they're not _old, old_, but…no…never mind. Yeah, they're old they're still good! Why would they _not_ be good. It's not as if there have holes in unseemly places. You know, maybe they do. I didn't bother checking…Why didn't I bother checking?! Here, give them back. I'll—

"Anna."

The rambling stopped almost at once. God, she's missed that. How can someone miss incoherent babble? She can. In the end, it wouldn't have mattered if she were brought rags. If it came from Anna, they were worldly sufficient.

"Thank you," she says offering a grateful, genuine smile.

The red head grins and then only looks at her expectantly.

_She wants you to put it on…_

Right. Of course.

"You mind turning around?"

Elsa can still see the bright blush that had suddenly encompassed her sister's face from the tips of her ears before a quick, "Of course!" and simultaneous, abrupt turn.

As soon as she's graced with the smaller girl's stiff back, the blonde wordlessly peels off her clothes, starting with the long sleeve. Her tired mind blared out that the bathroom is only a couple doors away, but stubbornness and a bit of daring is all it took to ignore the inward chastise.

Undressing with Anna no more than three feet away, albeit definitely not watching, is making her stomach flop crazily. It isn't necessarily a bad feeling…

_If your parents can see you now._

And definitely not a good one either…

She inwardly growls at her thought process, unclasping her bra and donning a black fitted shirt. Looking down, she's surprised to see Sci-Arc in blocked letters, making her wonder how Anna could've gotten a hold of her university's shirt. She discarded her jeans just as quickly and put on matching bottoms, letting out a short, "Okay" and meeting her sister's gaze as soon as the latter finally turns back around.

She's still blushing, giving the blonde a delirious high that she squashes with an iron fist. Instead, she pinches at her shirt and give the smaller girl a questioning look.

"How do you have my school's shirt?"

"Mom bought it for me."

_Oh…_

Anna scoots closer and turns before sitting down on the side of the bed, looking at her through a side profile as she begins the familiar task of unbraiding her now unkempt hair for the evening.

"It was…maybe three years ago?" the smaller girl continues, her gaze going up to the ceiling in reflection. "She had a meeting with LA's mayor…something important. Made a day trip. You were busy with school so she didn't see you, or so she says, but she did stop by at your university, bought me that shirt, and a hoody."

She remembers that day…because she did, in fact, see her mom.

Her birthday had been a couple of weeks before and Helene had come to see her to spend the day. They ate lunch at a popular hole in the wall ramen shop in downtown LA and toured her school after, the elder female Andersen buying what she called to be "souvenirs" at the school store. She hadn't told Elsa she'd be giving it to her sister…which would only make sense considering Anna was a taboo topic whenever either of her parents were in town.

It makes her wonder how much they had been lying for her.

"I visited you once…"

The sudden declaration shocks her, leaves her back ramrod straight, hands clutching at the haphazard blanket, and her attention undivided on the girl still looking up and away.

"Four years ago," Anna continues, her voice distant and quiet. "I didn't tell mom and dad. Just that I'd be spending spring break at a friend's. I bought the tickets. The airline called…made sure they were aware of an unaccompanied minor going on board. I…" she trails off and laughs an empty, sordid laugh that made Elsa's heart twinge. "I pretended I was mom. I wrote a letter, signed her name, spoke with them on the phone…everything. I guess they don't bother much especially if you've already paid for first class tickets. It was…surprisingly uncomplicated."

Green-blue eyes finally turn to her, the emotion gazing back at her unfamiliar. Loss? Helplessness? The blonde could only clutch at the blankets around her harder, her teeth worrying the insides of her cheeks.

"I couldn't find you."

Elsa swallowed roughly, unable to keep her sister's stare.

"I went into admissions. Told them you were my sister and asked for a home address, but they said they couldn't find you in the registry and even if they could they're not allowed to give private information like that to…_anyone_ apparently. So…I just…walked around…all day…hoping…wishing…that maybe I would stumble into you by chance…" Anna sighed, gathering her legs into her body and holding them there with her arms, her cheeks resting on her knees. "No luck though…"

It was hard to breathe with the prevalent lump back in her throat, but she forces her way around it. Slouching against the headboard of her bed, she pointedly looks away—towards the wall—and explains in a neutral voice, "Four years ago I wouldn't have been enrolled in Sci-Arc just yet." She sees her sister's slumped figure straighten from her words. "I did one year of general studies in UCLA and then transferred to Sci-Arc's undergraduate program the spring after."

"But…you said you'd already finished admissions for Sci-Arc even before graduating high school." The redhead's tone sounds oddly accusing. "There…there isn't a better alternative than the best architecture school in the world! _Especially_ when they've personally scouted you out!"

The blonde nods, agreeing inwardly at her sister's perfect argument. "I didn't know what I wanted…just yet. The indecisions of youth…I guess…I…" She trails off, unready for where this conversation has steered them. She knows it's not fair, but… "Please…not tonight Anna."

She unwillingly looks back at her sister, her expression pleading and sees disbelief etched upon the beautiful countenance. After a heavy and permeating several seconds with Anna keeping her silence, she finally gives a small nod to Elsa's unstated plea. The silence that blankets over them after is long and difficult.

But it's not as if the blonde could say that she only changed schools at the very last minute because she wanted to go somewhere her sister didn't know she'd be going—to possibly throw the latter in for a loop. And, upon the smaller girl's confession, she's only half glad that it worked.

Who knows what could've happened if they had met unscheduled. All her bravado of never seeing or speaking to the smaller girl again would've dissolved into ashes, the last five years a bad memory.

And would that have been so bad?

_No_, she finds herself answering just as quickly._ It would've been such a welcome reprieve. What has the last five years been, but a bad memory?_

She sighs outwardly, the sound loud in the too quiet room. Her head feels crowded of information and emotion from her far-from-normal day and it feels as if her body is finally catching up, the heaviness she feels in her bones making it difficult to move. She wonders how much longer until she can close her eyes and drift…but then the white morgue with sterling silver tables and drawers appear in her mind's eye again, and she knows tonight would be the most restlessness night she'll ever have to endure in her life.

"I have a love-hate relationship for when you're right."

Her sister's voice draws her back out of her morbid thoughts, her attention flittering to the younger girl and catching those eyes looking back at her again.

Her look turns questioning so the red head explains in a mutter, "I can't unsee them…"

"Oh, Anna…" She means it to sound like a chastise, but falls short. She can't fault her sister for this, even though she had warned her to begin with.

"I know," the smaller girl says with an exasperated sigh, unbuckling her hands from around her knees and falling backwards into the foot of the bed, her eyes fixed to the ceiling and her arms going outwards. "But I wanted to be there for you."

The open confession makes Elsa's heart flutter with joy, a smile reappearing in her solemn features, and before she knows it, before she can overthink it like she normally does, she's crawling towards her sister, sliding both hands around unsuspecting underarms as soon as she reaches the girl's prone form.

"Elsa?"

She ignores the confused call and instead pulls the smaller girl up until she's kind of sitting down again, giggling when the red head yelps at the sudden, albeit welcoming, intrusion. She pulls her again, this time from the waist until Anna's body is ensconced into her own, back melded with her front. Before anymore words are uttered between them, she grabs a couple of pillows from the headboard and place them a few feet away, falling into them tiredly and pulling her sister with her, gripping the smaller girl's waist in a fiercely, overprotective manner.

The pillow feels nice and cool, still a bit wet from earlier tears, but she's decided to ignore it as plaintively as possible. Anna's body feels warm and soft, her familiar smell flitting everywhere and for tonight, she chooses to ignore the alarm ringing in the corners of her mind that she shouldn't be enjoying this as much as she is.

The red head shuffles a bit, enough to cause doubt in the blonde that she may have been too forward, but the smaller girl merely brushes her copper hair away and to the side, giving her a backwards look and an unreadable smile before scooting closer, laying back down, and covering her arms with her own.

Elsa couldn't remember the last time she had felt this comfortable. Anna is all around her, drowning her senses, and she happily, willingly holds her tighter, a part of her afraid of the smaller girl leaving.

But she doesn't. In another minute, she's shuffling so that they're laying face to face, the blonde able to count the smatter of freckles upon an otherwise smooth visage.

_Beautiful._

And before she knows it, her hands are upon warm cheeks, caressing the younger girl's face, memorizing with touch and smell and sight everything that's being readily given to her. Because this won't last. This is fleeting. All of it. She knows that. She knows she'll have to return to California where she has to shut out her sister again. She knows there isn't any other option available. This impending separation…it's for the greater good.

But until then, she can indulge herself, right? It'll be only for a week—two max. She can act like the big sister she should be while her mind conjures up less than pleasant thoughts. So long as she keeps her promise to be able to let go in the end, there's nothing wrong with a little self-indulgence. Plus…she's sick of pushing her sister away. This tug of war between her brain and heart isn't something the red head needs. So…just for a little while, she's made the decision to…give in.

Elsa shuffles closer, if that were possible, eyes locked with bright turquoise eyes until her forehead is touching the smaller girl's. She reads surprise, elation, and warmth amongst those green-blue orbs and sighs in inward relief that this isn't crossing some kind of boundary.

With her thumb ghosting over smooth cheeks and her heart filled to the brim, she declares softly, honestly, openly, "I miss you too. So much."

Anna's expression freezes momentarily, long enough to elicit panic within the blonde's system, but it dissolves as the younger girl throws her arms over her shoulders in a ferocious back breaking hug.

Elsa chuckles at the intensity of the action before mimicking it, pulling her sister so the smaller girl is laying on top of her. Surprisingly enough, this didn't elicit any unchaste thoughts, even though the red head's face is just floating inches above her own and their bodies practically melding together. Maybe it was what she saw in her sister's expression: infallible trust, overfilling adoration, and selfless love projecting only to her.

Ever since they were little she'd always look at her like that, an expression so open and filled with guiltless, loving, adoring abandon that the blonde had no idea how to react to it. She still doesn't. But instead of shying away as she had done so before…just for these two weeks, she's decided to reciprocate it.

She lifts herself up by her elbows and swiftly places a kiss on Anna's brow, smirking in inward satisfaction at the easy blush it produces. Without another thought, she leans towards the lamp and pulls the string, blanketing the room in palpable darkness and holds the smaller girl tighter to her. The red head responds by burrowing deeper in her embrace, head delving into the crook of her neck and hands grasping at each of her sides.

"Don't think anymore," Elsa says softly in the dark. "Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

She feels more than sees her sister smile which brings a soft one to her face as well, her hand coming up to brush wild copper locks automatically.

She didn't think it was possible, but sleep finally seems to be a serious option. Her eyes have finally become heavy, her thoughts lingering on nothing. Her overworked brain feels like it's finally had it with thinking, and she's more than alright to submit to the void.

Until she feels a small kiss on her neck, a small, "Goodnight, Elsa" tickling the same spot as her sister mumbles the words sleepily. Not a minute later and she knows the smaller girl is asleep, but her eyes remain wide and fixed on the ceiling. She wonders briefly how Anna could sleep with her ears so close to the blonde's thumping heart, but decides her sister not waking up and asking why that particular organ was suddenly on overdrive is a good thing that's best left alone.

Unfortunately the rush of blood over her entire system has relegated her brain into waking up again, incoherent thoughts scrambling inside her head that she knows as soon as she begins to even attempt to decipher them that they'll scatter like dandelion fuzz in a summer breeze.

She sighs outwardly, her lips pursing as Anna lets out a small snore that sounds almost mocking in her ears. She rolls her eyes and burrows her head deeper into her pillow, subjugated on having a restless night. Then again, it's not to say she's uncomfortable. On the contrary she hasn't felt this content in ages. In the relative safety and darkness of her room, it's okay to feel like this, right? She holds on to that thought, twists and dissects it.

Even then, it's not as if today solved anything. It's just one step out of many uncountable ones.

How long will she be able to evade her sister's questioning looks? How long until just one question shatters this fragile security between them? These questions, best left for another day, plague her now in the dead of night.

And as her thoughts thrummed on and her fingers graze over a smooth back and soft curls, she officially knows that rest is not forthcoming.

Her mind and heart continue their silent war as she, without apology, breathes in the familiar, soothing cinnamon scent.

Sleep is overrated anyway.


	2. Chapter Two : Thursday : Day Two

Chapter Two: Thursday/Day Two

Elsa is sick of two things before lunchtime: the phone and the door.

She's not familiar with the stages of bereavement, but she makes a mental note that if she were to ever get any real friends (hah!) and if they ever have any loved ones die, she would leave them the hell alone in the first twenty four hours.

Before her is another couple—her father's friends if she's so inclined to remember. They greeted her with the same look the last person came through the door gave, and if her parents hadn't ingrained manners and courtesies so deftly as a child to her and her sister, her patience would've flown out of the window by hour one.

It sounds cold and callous, she knows. Some of these people really were close to her parents—she could see it from the genuine disparity displayed by some, but her patience…what's little of it, is dissipating. She and her sister has many things in their agenda that must be taken care of before Saturday; being kept in the house is counterproductive to this.

Surprisingly enough, or not surprising, now that she thinks about it, what keeps her tethered is the curve of Anna's arm around hers. The smaller girl maintains the same sympathetic, subdued smile to all visitors and it would seem the strain dripping from her composure is invisible to anyone, but the blonde.

"One o'clock at St. Peter's, yes?"

She nods and follows the elderly couple, Anna following her with slim fingers tightening over her forearm.

"Yes, one o'clock," she answers even though the point is moot.

They walk their guests to the door, Kai at the threshold keeping the entranceway open silently.

"We're sorry again for your loss," the female one of the two says just as they cross the barrier, her eyes lit in the same sympathetic half smile. "Alexander and Helene were wonderful people, and I see they have just as wonderful children."

Elsa's trained smile flits up her visage as she again bows in gratefulness, her sister following suit. They wait until the couple is situated in their car and halfway up the estate before Kai closes the door and Anna turns to her, forehead dropping heavily on her shoulder. The pitiful moan that comes out of her sister's throat only serves to make her laugh.

"When did the doorbell start ringing?"

The question leads her to how she woke up this morning: a bushy stack of fiery red hair tickling her face and intermittent snores filling her ears. She inwardly wished she could wake up daily like that, but it wasn't the tickling or the snoring that had woken her from her slumber.

When had the doorbell started ringing? Seven. _Seven_. In the _morning._

"You know how it's illegal for telemarketers to call before and after nine?" Anna's muffled voice asks, eliciting another chuckle from the older sister. "That rule really should fall on everything." She pauses, and then continues, "And Kai, I know…I _know_ they're being nice. But…how many guests have we—oh, for the love of god!"

"Hello, Andersen residence," a maid answers the phone shortly after the incessant ringing just began.

Elsa is suddenly glad she's asked one of the maids to forsake her daily duties and maintain at the phone's side. Just like the doorbell, it had been incessant at shrilling since…seven.

"We need to go," her sister pleads, and she's amused to see the imploring look laced desperately in bright green-blue eyes. "We need to get out of here before—

_Ding-dong._

Both of them sigh simultaneously, Kai giving a small smile and shake of the head before opening the door.

"We haven't even started walking away yet," the redhead begins to grumble, but stops just as the door opens to reveal their new guest. "Kristoff!"

The tall, bulky man is unfamiliar to Elsa, but from the way Anna's posture suddenly goes as rigid as a post does not go unnoticed by her. Light blue eyes flit to her sister, then to the man, her eyebrows quirking at the unsure smile on their guest's visage. An awkward silence follows, ending with Anna's hand ripping away from her arm and a good foot of separation suddenly between them.

Just a little hurt, but moreover confused at the smaller girl's sudden change of demeanor, the blonde gives her undivided attention to the other blond in the room.

"Elsa Andersen," she greets, not intending for her voice to grow an octave lower and colder, but that's certainly how it comes out.

Their guest notices the shift and gives an uneasy smile, his hand coming forward and grasping hers in a tight, formal shake. "Kristoff Bjorgman."

She's surprised to feel a smooth, soft hand against her own. At first glance she had judged, by the height and bulk of the man, that he'd have calloused, rough hands from whatever profession he's employed. She files this thought aside and from her peripherals sees her sister rolling anxiously at the balls of her feet.

Kristoff turns to the redhead and gives her a look of worry that unsettles Elsa's stomach. "I heard…just now. I came as quickly as possible."

The smaller girl merely nods, her attention darting everywhere but at her and the tall man's direction. "We…uhh…We can talk…in my room…in private."

Elsa nods even though it's clear this has nothing to do with her and her gaze inadvertently falls behind the blond man, a familiar woman making her way up the estate. She turns to Anna who's now looking at her, eyes uncertain? Afraid? She wants to ask but knows its neither the time or place.

"I'll take care of the new visitor so you can speak with your…Kristoff."

The redhead's mouth opens quickly, incessant shakes of the head following before the blonde steps away, around the bulky man still standing at the threshold, and puts a cordial smile on her face to greet the newer guest. She hears them shuffle away after a brief moment, straining to listen to the pair of footfalls and attempts to swallow the ever familiar lump in her throat.

She swears by the end of this trip, she and this lump will be the best of friends.

"Hello Gerda," she greets, noting red rimmed eyes and a barely kept appearance.

"Hello Elsa," the older woman greets, coming up the stairs and giving her a small hug.

This counts as the sixteenth hug from a near stranger in as little as four hours. Well, she supposes Gerda's as close to a family friend as one could get. Elsa has known her for what seems like forever, gainfully employed by her father as an assistant of some sorts back when he was still a corporate lawyer. When he had decided the career change to move on as a Judge he had asked her to follow him. She had scoffed, and had given him a look that said 'As if you had to ask. You'd drown in paperwork without me'.

The blonde would've been wary of such a close relationship, if her parents had ever given an indication that their marriage was anything if not perfect (to the eyes of a child, anyway) and if Gerda wasn't literally ten to fifteen years her dad's senior.

Elsa leads her to the main living room, light blue eyes darting up the stairs and to the left where Anna and her guest would be before sitting down on the sofa and keeping an attentive eye on her father's secretary.

The woman's dark brown hair is clasped tightly in a bun, streaks of gray prominent and showing her age drastically. The women's suit looks frail around her thin body, wrinkled in some spots that directly contrasted to how the blonde remembers her. The eyes, though, remained the same: fierce and lively. She remembers that this woman and her mom were possibly the only two people in the world that could berate her father like a child and get away with it (most of the time).

"How are you?" the old woman asks first, giving her a watery, but determined look.

Elsa nods, tongue darting dry lips before replying, "Hanging in there. There's a lot to take in and Anna and I are keeping up as best as we can."

Gerda's face falls at her honest answer, the old woman shaking her head in a mixture of disbelief and anguish. "I am so sorry about your loss, child."

The blonde's gaze falls, towards the floor, the coffee table, then to her clasped hands on her lap.

"Your parents…I can't stress enough how wonderful they were," she continues, as Elsa feels the familiar prickle at the back of her eyes.

Without Anna next to her, listening to the condolences and reminisces seem a bigger burden that she can handle alone. But she keeps an open ear, wanting to think about her parents and what they had meant to this woman before her than willing her mind to fly to what might be happening in her little sister's room.

"I know you must be busy, so…I'll make this quick."

Elsa's eyes widen at her straightforward demeanor making the woman laugh.

"Dear, as you can probably tell, I've had to deal with a few funerals myself. It never gets easier and this one is no exception. Alexander and Helene were two of the most amazing people I've ever had the opportunity to meet, and to be in both of their high esteem is a reward in and of itself.

"I may not be your father's secretary anymore, but it doesn't stop me from still working for him. You may see to it as…one last thing I can do for him, but I would like to help you and Anna by taking care of—

_Riiiii—_

"Hello, Andersen Residence."

She blinks and gives an exasperated smile. "Of that."

Elsa's eyes widen.

"There are many people unaware of the news who needs to know. There are many who will be visiting the house—already visited from what I gather of the gentleman that came before me. A lot of questions need answering, and I know…I _know_ you don't have the luxury of time for it. I understand that it's only you and your sister taking care of everything. Please…let me help you. It's the least I can do for your father and mother. They've treated me like…family…especially after mine have all, but gone. Let me do this one last thing for Alexander so that I may be able to rest knowing I've done everything I can for him."

Speech has once again left her, the overabundance of emotion and gratefulness seeking to force her heart to brim out of her bursting chest. She can only nod, her jaws clamping tightly and eyes blinking furiously in the hopes of dissipating the burning feeling in the back of her lids.

Gerda gets up from her seat and she follows in tandem, meeting the old woman in the middle of the room in a grateful, consoling hug. She finds that she doesn't mind the scratchy fabric of the secretary's work blazer or the musty scent of papers and ink following the woman's frail form; it reminds her of her father.

"Alexander adored you, you know."

The soft declaration freezes her insides, her grip on the taller woman tightening slightly.

Gerda steps out of their hug, but keeps the blonde in place with firm hands folding over her shoulders.

"I remember the joy in his eyes when he spoke of your overflowing acceptance letters. The pride was borne so deep it was infectious. He would speak so often of you and your sister that it felt as if I know both of you as a…grandmother would."

The blonde smiles timidly at the embarrassing blush that crept up the woman's cheeks at the small admission.

"But more than anything, I loved the over the top plans he made," the older woman continues, a hint of nostalgia in her smiling features. "For example, there was this case in Portland, Oregon. There were some disputes about state lines…crimes being made in New York and Oregon, up and down the country and…I'm sure he didn't _need_ to know so much information about it, but…he made it a point to fly to the Portland Municipal Court so he could speak with a few esteemed judges there about the case. He didn't have to fake it, but he called me saying the meeting finished early and since that was the case (not that he planned it that way or anything) that he might as well make a detour…to LA."

Light blue eyes widen, her heartbeat rushing against her ears roughly as her mind takes her back to a voicemail she listened to once upon a time.

_"__Hey Elsa, it's dad. I'm…(embarrassed chuckle)…I'm in LA…right now. Well actually, I will be in an hour…I'm waiting for a flight. I'm here in Portland for…some court case and it finished early. Anyway…it's Friday and I would love to see you. Of course, you might be busy, you know, doing things college girls do…on Friday nights…but will you make room for your old man for…maybe an hour? Call me back! (Long silence, then a resigned grumble). I wish you'd keep your cellphone with you…"_

"Elsa?"

She doesn't see the look of surprise aimed at her from the older woman from what she must be seeing upon the blonde's face. Silent tears merely fall from her eyes like bullets, her heart hammering a dull repetition in her ribcage as her attention falls on her calling sister. The smaller girl's eyes widen at her morose, empty disposition, and she diminishes the several feet between them in three giant steps, pulling the blonde into a tight, fierce hug that she's too numb to give back.

Her head makes a dull thud on strong shoulders, short hiccuping breaths drawing in Anna's familiar, comforting scent, and she shuts out everything: her father's morose secretary, the unfamiliar blond man scratching his head awkwardly at the foot of the steps, and even Kai who's kept his silent vigil at the living-room's threshold.

One addled thought remained—one that's been in the surface of her mind, but she has pushed back fervently. Now, it's come back with a fiery vengeance.

There is no God.

Her parents, while not ardent church goers, had believed in a higher power. Elsa believes in logic and the things she can see with her own eyes. This event, this circumstance, has only reinforced that belief. Because there's no God this spiteful and careless that would take away two people who didn't deserve it. There shouldn't be a God if he's so blind to smite innocent bystanders while people like her…obviously sinning in the face of the church and the lord and their decrees and psalms, can keep standing, keep living, while her parents are just simply…dead.

Maybe living is part of the punishment…her sister the sweetest punishment of them all. There, but not. Here in her arms, but…not.

Maybe there is a God. But he's spiteful, immature, unfair…and Elsa still doesn't want anything to do with him.

O—O

The ride to St. Peter's Cathedral is taken after a long and silent lunch. After her impromptu breakdown, Anna had taken her up to her room where they had stayed sitting on her bed for another thirty minutes in silent consolation. Neither one spoke, neither uttered a sound. They simply stayed there, Elsa sitting at the edge of the bed with her gaze stuck in its now familiar thousand-yard-stare and the redhead before her, kneeling down on the floor and looking up at her with creased brows and an expression that wants to say so much, but doesn't.

Knowing that they couldn't stay in her bedroom even if this is all either of them wanted to do, Elsa calls for Kai to prepare lunch after some time so that they can eat something (unsuccessfully) before heading out to finish unwanted errands. She didn't question where the blond man had gone by the time they had come back downstairs. She oddly didn't feel like anything. And she thinks that this should scare her…but she figures her body's just finally catching up with her mind, and if she were to feel absolutely nothing for the remainder of this trip, it would be a blessing.

Currently, they're traveling with Kai to St. Peter's Cathedralto meet up with the funeral coordinator—more planning, more talks. Two more days until her parents are laid to rest and for some inexplicable reason, she's looking forward to it more and more after each day that passes. She's already so tired…of the feelings, roller coaster emotions…responsibility.

When will it end?

The caress of a soft hand gathers her attention, her gaze falling on Anna who's looking at her with the same worried expression atop the same youthful face.

"I'll do the talking," she says lowly, her free hand coming up to brush a few stray platinum strands back over her ears. The smaller girl's hand lingers there, on ashen cheeks, before grazing the skin softly and putting it back down atop her hands. "You remember what I said last night, right?"

She nods. Of course she remembers.

She closes her eyes to steady herself, feeling vulnerable when she didn't want to be, especially in front of a person she always wants to seem strong to. With breaths even and her mind a fraction clearer, she locks again with expressive blue-greens and nods.

"Thank you, Anna."

The redhead lights up at her easy acquiesce and gifts her with a soft, endearing smile.

The funeral coordinator is waiting for them atop the twenty stone steps leading to the large cathedral. With hands firmly grasping at each of their respective sides, they follow the middle aged man as he explains in further detail the goings on that will take place in two days' time.

They follow him wordlessly into the building as he shows them a paper template of what to expect on Saturday, his explanations glossing over Elsa's mind as she tunes him out too easily, her attention darting from the dark, wooden pews, to tall, stone columns erecting all the way to the ceiling, to colored glass panes that gave illumination to the otherwise solemn structure.

"Will you both be speaking during the Eulogy? You aren't expected, but…"

"I'll speak," Anna volunteers, and looks at her with questioning eyes. "Elsa? You don't have to if you don't want to."

She shakes her head. "I will as well."

The redhead nods at her before turning back to the funeral coordinator who continues, "I'll be there to guide it along so that you'll know when you're up. Because of your parents' influence in the church and the community, Father Moore has also decided to conduct a full mass."

_Oh, how nice of him_.

Elsa finds she's still too bitter to care for God, the church and everything it symbolized, and is glad of the strong hand grasping hers tightly, keeping her grounded. The cathedral, although spacious feels stifling, the musky smell overpowering, and she can't wait to get out even though they've just entered.

True to her word, Anna speaks for the both of them, keeping up with the questions and posing comments whenever it's expected of her. Elsa means to keep up and tries to file the important information in her mind, but she finds it's too muddled, her stomach churning at what little food she was able to keep down from lunch and her irritation at everything building.

The longest hour of her life finally passes and she almost drags her sister back into the car, keeping irked eyes away from the stone cathedral and the smaller girl's searching look. Only when she and Anna are buckled in and back into the heavy midday traffic, does she let out a long, frustrated growl, hands clawing at her face, bangs, and hair.

If her sister is surprised at her built up frustration, she doesn't show it. Instead, the smaller girl takes off her own seatbelt and gives her a tight hug, one bereft of words, just a silent promise that she's there…she'll _always_ be there.

"Why is life so _unfair_?"

She's not sure if she meant it to be a rhetorical question, but Anna sighs nonetheless and takes her strained fingers off of her face and tangles them into her hands. She gazes at soft turquoise orbs, love, apology, patience peeking out to the older girl that she feels overwhelmed from what she sees so openly displayed to her.

The redhead shrugs and begins brushing unkempt platinum blonde hair back into place, giving the task more concentration than it needs. "I don't know," she answers quietly, her attention towards unbraiding the hair.

Light blue eyes close at the smaller girl's sudden attention, her hands that had been gripping her knees becoming limp. They maintain the silence as the younger girl begins carding bunches of strands into experienced hands, twisting, knotting, pulling them in place expertly as she's done numerous times before. It didn't seems to matter if she was in front or behind—she's able to redo the braid expertly. And the taller girl realizes, this mundane, yet familiar action is all she needed. After a too short minute, Elsa opens her eyes again, calm finally strumming back through her nerves as she stares at the lone braid still grasped within her sister's grip. Her eyes widen, heart rushing excitedly as Anna took the braid and brought it upon her nose, giving it a quiet sniff before placing it back on her left shoulder. The younger girl smirks to herself, as if trying to maintain a secret before looking back at her surprised visage and finally erupting in a blush reminiscent to a tomato.

The picture makes Elsa laugh, eyes crinkling, hilarity bubbling off of her chest. The action is unfamiliar, but welcoming—she's not sure when it was last that she had such a good laugh.

Anna merely looks at her sheepishly, face still rushing to the point where it reaches the tips of her ears. The blonde brings up a hand to caress a hot cheek, loving the warmth emanating from the smooth skin and before she can think about it, she leans forward and drops a peck on the other side.

The tingling on her lips feel magical, and she only barely registers her sister's hands, bunched up on her blouse, grip her just a little tighter. She manages to draw back, away from the soft smell of baby lotion and cinnamon, and lock with blue-green eyes. She's still so close that she can see the light blue flecks within the irises, the same color and hue that encompasses the majority of her own eye color.

Before she can comment on it, a loud gurgle interrupts the space between them, and if it was at all possible, Anna turns even redder. A new bout of hilarity shakes Elsa's lithe form, only becoming louder when she hears her smaller sister huff in indignation.

"Sorry, I'm human and hungry…" she mumbles, sitting back into her spot with arms crossed over her chest and looking like an adorable petulant child, at least in the blonde's eyes.

She lets loose another chuckle before putting the younger girl's seat belt for her wordlessly and then pressing the intercom button at her side, gathering their driver's attention.

"Kai? Would it be possible to stop by at a restaurant? Anna and I are hungry and weren't able to have a decent lunch," she requests just as the divider begins coming down.

The old man gives them both a smile, his eyes crinkling familiarly at the rearview mirror. "My pleasure Miss Elsa," he says easily. "Is there any particular restaurant you have in mind?"

She looks at her wristwatch: 3:30 and surmises that most places wouldn't be very packed at this hour.

"Anywhere that's not closed or waiting for dinner service to begin."

He nods just as she gathers her sister's hand in her own, the familiar grip she finds there comforting, and looks back again to the same still pinkish cheek she had just kissed. She doesn't stop the delirious high she feels and merely holds the younger girl's hand tighter until green-blue eyes are staring at her again.

"Thank you, Anna," she says just soft enough for the two of them. She doesn't notice the divider ascending once more, just the beautiful, soft look gracing her sister's freckly countenance. "I'm not strong enough to handle all of this alone. I may have been giving the indication that I can, have, and will, but this burden is heavy, and it's tearing my sanity to pieces. I'm glad you saw that before I did—that you've shown me how much I need you. Please bare with me—be patient with me. I'm not the best company and at times _I_ don't even want to be with me—

"You're perfect, how can you not?"

She chuckles at the indignant declaration and brushes copper locks back. "You know what I mean…"

Anna nods, giving her a serious look.

"We're in this together," Elsa continues, darting between green-blue eyes morosely and loving how their grip upon the other's hand tightens just a bit more. "I'm here for you for whatever you need. Ask, and I'll turn the world upside down. I know you'll do the same for me."

The smaller girl can only nod in silent reverence.

O—O

They're seated rather quickly upon entering a small Italian restaurant, the first thing Elsa getting, to the surprise of her smaller sister, a cup of red wine.

"Sorry," she apologizes, even though she's not quite sure why.

Anna shakes her head just as quickly, eyeing the glass of water their waiter is currently filling up for her. "It's not like it's illegal for you."

The blonde doesn't have to do the math in her head, but she scrunches her face in thought regardless. "You're not twenty-one yet."

Anna shakes her head. "A couple more months."

She nods. July 23rd. As if she can forget…but it's not as if she's greeted the smaller girl otherwise in the past five years to acknowledge it. The headache that's been like an acquaintance since this morning is back and she gulps a little too much of the wine for her liking.

"Would you like to drink with me when we get home? Maybe break one of dad's prized bottles…"

The rebellious thought leaves her somewhat elated.

Her smaller sister merely laughs, green-blue eyes alight in mirth. "Not tonight…Maybe…Saturday?"

The specific request strikes her as just a little odd. "You don't drink?"

Anna shakes her head in silent reply, her lips up in a funny quirk as if she knows something that Elsa doesn't.

"I don't believe you."

"Well," the redhead puffs, looking miffed, but her playful smile never leaves. "_Someone_ definitely drank underage."

The blonde nods. "_Every_ college student does." She trails off, keeping an eye on her sister's countenance. "You mean to tell me you haven't drank alcohol. Like, at all?"

Anna laughs, shaking her head in reply. "Don't be ridiculous! You just said _every college student does_…I'm definitely the epitome of a college student."

"Then there's no reason to wait until Saturday. We can drink when we get home."

Elsa thinks her reasoning is spotless until she sees the uneasy face sported by her sister.

"I…can't," she simply says, eyes begging for her to let this go. "Saturday…I promise. Not today."

Their conversation of Sci-Arc just the night before and how Elsa had begged then to be let off enters her mind, so she merely nods, and takes another sip of the dry, red wine. Another thought, just as dangerous, enters her head. It never really left, if she thought about it…just frayed within the edges until curiosity finally won over.

"Tell me about your boyfriend then."

She shouldn't have said it while Anna was in the middle of drinking her water because the spray and the violent coughs after, while comical to an outsider's point of view, almost gave her a heart attack. She gets up so quickly from her seat that the chair makes a loud scraping sound, eliciting the attention of other patrons. She stays where she's at though, conflicted between standing still and wanting to hasten at her sister's still coughing side, but the latter stops her with a dismissive wave of the hand.

"Jesus, Elsa," the redhead mutters, still in the middle of a coughing fit while the blonde slowly makes her way back on her seat, her attention fixed on her sister.

"Sorry," she says quietly, dismissing their concerned waiter with a shake of the head before he can come any closer to their table. "I just assumed—

"He's not my boyfriend," Anna states resolutely, her voice still squeaky, but moreover back to its normal octave. She clears her throat to help her along, eyeing the water thoughtfully, possibly deciding if it's a good idea to take another sip while they were still in this topic. She decides to just grip the glass with a shaky hand, feeling the cold condensation creep through her warm palm. "Not sure why this was easier to say to mom and dad but…"

Elsa, rather confused at the random mention of their parents, doesn't ask and takes a careful sip of her wine instead, her attention still rapt on her sister's suddenly serious demeanor.

"…I'm gay."

Her chest convulses in surprise, the warm trickle of wine coming back up painfully.

The definition of karma seizes her.

Now it's Anna who's standing up from her spot at the table, blue-green eyes wide in concern as the blonde attempts to cough the tickling burn out of her throat. Their waiter is at their table in record time.

"I'm sorry ladies," he attempts to placate even though it's nothing the restaurant could've done anything about. "Is there…is there something I can get you—

"We're ready to order," Anna says quite loudly, sits back down, flips her menu, darts her eyes on the page, and picks seemingly at random, "Seafood linguine, please."

The waiter has just enough time to pull out a notepad from his apron before Elsa, also flipping her menu on a random page picks out what her eyes first land on. "Eggplant parmigiana. Thank you."

He nods, looks at the two of them again as they're both busy putting their napkins over their respective laps and leaves with the promise of bringing their dishes as quickly as possible. As soon as he's out of earshot, the blonde looks up at her sister again, the splotchy redness of her cheeks illuminating mortification that she's not quite sure why it's there.

This is certainly big news though…Never in all her years would she have guessed the smaller girl would be attracted to women. There really wasn't ever an indication. As far as she knows it should be the exact opposite; Anna had loved fairy tale stories growing up and those definitely never had two girls falling in love.

She takes another sip of wine, even more careful than the last and sets it aside. She figures she shouldn't have anything in her mouth while they're still having this talk.

"Since when?" Something tells the older girl her sister won't start it up anymore and curiosity has prevailed once again, so she begins with the first question her mind can supply.

Anna's attention is still rapt on the napkin on her lap, but she mumbles coherently enough, "Fifteen. Tried boys in middle school, didn't like it so…I tried batting for the other team."

Elsa chuckles at the uncouth explanation, making the smaller girl's blue-green eyes dart up to hers once again. She sees the unease there, and would like nothing more than to appease the redhead's discomfort, so she says the only thing that would've had any real worth to their current conversation.

"Funny…I found out when I was fifteen too."

Anna's eyes are wide as saucers, her mouth following suit, and the picture makes Elsa laugh silently at her spot.

"Are you…are you kidding?"

The blonde's eyebrows quirk in question as she replies, "Why would I be kidding?"

The smaller girl shrugs, the action so expressive her whole body follows suit. "I don't know, you just…well, now that I think about it, I guess I can't really picture you with a guy…"

Elsa nods in silent agreement, tearing the bread they've both unwillingly ignored and dipping it into an herbed olive oil dip before putting it in her mouth. She feels that maybe they've gone far enough in the conversation that the possibility of a choking hazard is at least over.

"So…do you have a girlfriend? Partner…?"

She shakes her head before looking up at her smaller sister, swallowing the food in her mouth before replying, "Too busy for something substantial. Hook-ups…that's about it. School is really the only long term relationship I can handle right now." She doesn't want to know the answer if it's in the positive, but she might as well get it out of the way. "And you? Any girls you'd like to bring home for me to meet?"

The thought leaves a burning feeling in her chest, but before it can erupt, Anna just shakes her head, her gaze falling to the side where she stares at a banister too concentratedly to actually be seeing it.

"Had a few," the redhead says in a small voice and then shakes her head. "Something was always missing."

Elsa knows that feeling too well, but didn't want to dwell on it. It's not as if she can say to her sister that all her hook-ups had been fiery redheads that had always closely resembled the smaller girl in one way or another. That information is best left disregarded and never, ever brought up.

Anna gives her a wicked smile and states, "Maybe one of these nights we can be each other's wingman."

_Or I can take you home and just have my way with you. _

The thought leaves her chuckling, but to mollify her sister she merely nods, even though there's no way in hell she'd ever help some stranger get in the smaller girl's pants.

"So how did mom and dad take it when you came out?" the redhead continues, joining her in picking at the bread in the middle of the table.

"I only came out to dad. He told mom and she spoke to me soon after."

"Was dad…alright?"

"Given everything I was unloading his reaction was…better than I expected. I guess it also helped that I planned to come out the night before I was leaving for college."

Anna snorts loudly. "Smart…"

She smirks at the near comment. "Thank you. And you?"

"I thought they were out of the house…but they weren't."

Light blue eyes widen in shock, but the redhead waves her hand in a casual dismissal.

"We still had plenty of clothes on…just a lot of heavy petting. I was jerking too much, kicked a lamp, it broke, dad wanted to see what was going on, and got an eyeful. More than anything, he got mad at the lamp and not at what he saw. Although I guess in retrospect, maybe you softened the blow for me by coming out first. I was really surprised when the overreaction was on taking care of items and the value of things you haven't paid for yourself instead of the girl huddled in my bed…"

Elsa laughs, the mental picture conjured in her mind something she desperately wished she could've seen in real life. She would never have let the younger girl live it down…although maybe jealousy would've reared its ugly head so hard that it's best she didn't see it. No matter, it would've been comical. Just another important event she's missed within the last five years.

Their food arrives shortly and after assuring the waiter they have everything they want as of now, they begin eating. It's silent, but comfortable and it allows the blonde to think about the newest thing she's found out about her sister.

The thought halfway there or one step closer doesn't even register. It doesn't matter if she was an alien and the smaller girl has a preference for aliens. Sisters. That's where it will always come down to…and that's where the majority of her decisions will always be made. She's so stuck in her mind that she almost misses the question aimed at her.

"What'll you do…after?"

Anna doesn't have to elaborate more in order for her to get the question. She finds that she can't look up from her food though and merely picks at it as she replies too quietly, "I have to finish my undergraduate program. Then, a couple of years of internship."

"Internship…" Her sister picks at the word, as if expecting it. "You can do that…pretty much anywhere, right?"

She nods, not liking where this conversation has suddenly turned. "I have a couple lined up. One in LA, the other in San Francisco."

"Have you looked at any opportunities here? Something tells me New York is a good place for that too…"

The blonde finally looks up, sees the pleading look upon her sister's face and feels her resolve begin to crumble. She wants to explain the importance of doing her internship in the other side of the country, but stops herself at the sudden look of determination she sees upon her sister's demeanor.

The smaller girl places her fork down and wipes the nonexistent stain on the corners of her mouth with her napkin before looking up at her again, green-blue eyes steady and serious.

"You said it…right? Earlier? We're in this together?"

She remains quiet, pleading inwardly to not be put in this situation. Not here, certainly not now. A naive part of her wants it to be never.

"Now, I'm not…I'm not trying to make you eat your words or take them back," Anna continues relentlessly on. "I'd…I'd be devastated if you did. But…there's no going around the elephant in the room. I mean…we can certainly try, but I'll always be wondering and you'll always know and won't supply the answer."

This is bad…

Her grip falls from her fork to her napkin, bunching the tan colored cloth into white knuckled hands. It's becoming harder to breathe, but she takes it silently as a punishment that doesn't even make up for the last five years.

"But I'll do us a favor." The younger girl's voice is unsteady but still clear, pausing for a long moment, as if in an internal debate, before stating softly, "I won't ask."

Light blue eyes look up in surprise at the words uttered. She sees the unmistakeable hurt at being kept in the dark, but she's too relieved to want the smaller girl to take it back.

"Even though…it's practically killing me. I won't ask. I won't ask why you didn't call…or visit…or even…Christ, Elsa, a text—an _e-mail_ would've been sufficient. I won't ask you to explain why you couldn't just…" The redhead trails off her growing frustration, swallowing roughly and eyes darting everywhere but at the older girl. She breathes deeply, maybe to center herself and continues roughly, "I won't ask. Just…I want you to know that the first time around…when you left…and a week passed by. Then a month…then a few months…" She stops again, gathers another deep breath and continues lowly with her gaze still averted, "I was bouncing with joy at the prospect that maybe you were busy and my birthday would be a good enough reason to call…And then that passed too…and…"

Anna looks around, blinking furiously, willing for subdued tears to dissipate, and all Elsa can do is stay rooted at her spot, hands still clutching at her napkin while her stomach plummeted and burned at her sister's confession. The younger girl's words fill her head with scenarios, each one as painful as the last and leaves a hollow, depthless cavity where her heart should be.

And she finds she can't say a thing. There's no reply readily available in the world.

Sorry…couldn't possibly be enough.

"God, this was a really bad time and place to do this…" The redhead laughs, but it's empty and dry and serves to make the blonde hate herself even more, and especially so when she sees turquoise eyes shining with unshed tears. "Elsa…that first time around…was bad. I…can't explain how bad it was for me. If…if you leave again…to the other side of the country—hell, anywhere in the world! And the past five years repeat itself…"

The smaller girl trails off. She doesn't have to continue. Elsa understands perfectly. She just nods silently, eyes unable to lock with her little sister's and falls on her partially eaten food. With this heartfelt confession openly handed to her, what other choice does she have now? In retrospect it was foolish of her to think she can wile away these next couple of weeks and think she can go back to her normal (although a very loose term) life without consequence. She obviously didn't think it through.

Their parents are gone. She's now solely responsible for her sister. And while the latter is a grown adult in the eyes of society, in the blonde's perspective, she will always be her little sister, therefore her own responsibility and ward.

She can't run away anymore.

"I'll think of a way."

She says it so quietly she doesn't think the smaller girl hears her, but when she gets the courage to look up, she sees the smile in Anna's freckled visage, hope and reverence dancing in her eyes. And she can't return it. She can only feel growing consternation riddled with anxiety and confusion.

There's no way in hell she can keep her emotions at bay in any scenario with her and her sister living anywhere near together in a prolonged period—same household or not. She gulps, feeling the lump come back.

_Hello darkness, my old friend…_

O—O

"I was wondering if you'd like to have a wake."

They come home from the restaurant with her dining area seemingly transformed into a small call center, the three maids employed under their household sitting on the straight back chairs with wireless headsets over their ears. One seems to be taking the incoming calls with the other two doing outgoing, from what little Elsa has observed when she and her sister walked in not even five minutes back.

Gerda merely looks at her expectantly, needing an answer so she can take the necessary actions.

The blonde nods, her eyes grazing over her transformed dining area. Papers littered everywhere, computer desktops and laptops humming to life where they weren't before.

The old woman sees where her attention has been taken and clears her throat. "I'll be sure to clean up. I know it looks messy…"

She trails off as Elsa shakes her head in disagreement. "It looks like progress and I can't thank you enough."

The girl that broke down merely a few hours back is gone and Alexander and Helene's collected first born daughter is back.

"A wake?" She nods, getting her train of thought back. "Yes, it would seem appropriate. I'll call the funeral home to have them send my parents here tomorrow. We'll begin at three. Anna and I will take care of calling last minute catering services and I trust you can contact the people who will want to attend?"

Gerda smiles evenly and nods once in understanding.

The rest of the afternoon going into the evening is spent in the second living room with Anna laying on one couch typing away on a laptop while she's on her cellphone, calling recommended catering services her sister pipes out in regular intervals. She finds that the avenues open a whole lot wider when she's frank about what the service is about and starts dropping her parents' names.

The doorbell still rings every now and again, but she doesn't greet the guests at the insistence of her late father's hard at work secretary. Gerda makes it a point to get the door with the help of Kai and it's this small thing that makes the tasks given to them just a little bit easier.

_"__You're Senator Andersen's daughter?"_ an excited voice streams through her ears as she looks over Anna's shoulder at another viable option if this, like all the others in the last few hours, doesn't pan through. Unfortunately, a day's notice is much too short for catering possibly more than a hundred people.

"Yes," she answers, swiping at the screen to reveal more of the page as Anna gives her a side profile.

_"__We hosted her celebratory win when she won the Senatorial seat for New York!" _the man on the other line exclaimed. _"When will be the service and how many people are you needing?"_

She's finally getting somewhere. "I'd like at least ten waiters. My kitchen is open for any cooking at any hour tomorrow—even tonight if more time is needed. The wake begins at three. I expect an upwards of…a few hundred people attending in the timespan of several hours."

_"__And your estimated budget?"_

She pauses. She hadn't thought about that certain aspect of the event. "What will be your estimation for six to seven hours?"

_"__For everything? In between eight to ten thousand."_

The sigh she expels is just a little loud and it causes her sister to graze a soft knuckle on her exposed cheek. She smiles at her and scowls at the phone. It's a good thing she hasn't needed the monthly allowances her parents have provided since she's began schooling…otherwise she didn't really know what to do. Going into her parents' bank accounts seem…uncouth, especially given the circumstance.

"Yes, that's sufficient. Will wine be included with the service?"

_"__Yes, Ms. Andersen. We'll begin planning as soon as possible and we'll be there as early as 6 AM tomorrow. Any preference of foods—_

"None. Make the majority in the form of finger foods or appetizers. Most people will be staying for no longer than thirty minutes."

_"__Understood. Will there be anymore I can do for you before seeing you tomorrow morning?"_

She shakes her head even though the man in the other line can't see it. "No. Thank you for taking this all in, in such short notice."

_"__It's my pleasure Ms. Andersen. Have a good evening."_

She shuts off her phone and thuds her head on her sister's shoulder tiredly, reminiscent of how the smaller one did it just that morning. Just as she had done, Anna also chuckles and after placing the laptop on the coffee table grabs her arm and leads her onto the sofa, situating her so that she's leaning on the smaller girl, back to front.

Slim arms envelope her and she sighs in a mixture of tiredness and contentment, loving the feel of the smaller girl's soft, pliable body curving and meeting her own and lean further in if it was possible. She wonders briefly if it's possible for them to stay this way until Saturday and laugh inwardly at the scene her mind's giving her: tomorrow, prime time, she and Anna surrounded by hundreds of milling people not giving a damn what they say as they just lounge in this sofa…just as they are now.

"What's the cost?"

The question takes her out of reverie and causes the same outward sigh as before.

"Eight to ten."

The younger girl gives a low whistle. "There's still time to go to mom and dad's bank…"

She shakes her head, wanting to spare all of that legal mumbo jumbo for next week. "I…have it."

"Monthly stipend?"

Elsa nods, giving a her look from the side. "The condo was practically paid for and they gave more than enough for utilities and bills. Add a boring lifestyle of all work and barely no play and you get a bank account that's…kinda overflowing."

Anna nods. "Same…I lived with them and still got a monthly stipend…So…if you need any…please…take it out of my hands."

The blonde gives an outward smirk at her sister's words. "I don't know…I half-expected you to party the majority of it away."

The redhead snorts, eyes rolling outward. "There _was_ a time there…right when I hit eighteen and just graduated. I think that was my rebellious phase."

Elsa remains quiet and attentive, letting her sister's words wash over her.

"Partied a lot…drank a lot. Had a fake ID." Anna laughs, her eyes looking far away. "I was out of control…All it took to wake me up were some words I overheard. 'She's the senator's daughter' or 'Judge Andersen's youngest'."

The blonde swallows roughly as turquoise eyes meet hers morosely.

"It was even more effective than being dunked in ice cold water," the smaller girl continues, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. "It comes back. I don't know why I didn't learn that earlier. It always comes back to mom and dad. In the end, I just…kinda stopped myself. They never said anything about it even though I knew that they knew…" She stops momentarily, her thoughts on the late judge and senator. "They really were great people…I'm surprised they could juggle being great parents in the mix."

Elsa couldn't help but agree.

"Who was your favorite?"

The blonde gives her sister a harassed look at the unexpected question. "Anna, we can't have favorites."

"Pfft, yeah we can. Every kid has a favorite. One just…stands out better. Doesn't mean we don't love the other just as much. I bet if we had another brother or sister—a youngest—he or she'd be _your_ favorite."

The taller girl chuckles, rolling her eyes at the obvious goad. "Well aren't you lucky you're the only sibling I have then?"

"Jerk. Answer the question." When she didn't answer fast enough, Anna continues, "Dad definitely liked you more."

"Anna…parents don't have favorites either."

"Hey! I wasn't going to cut myself short you know. Dad may have liked you more, but mom? Mom _adored_ me."

Elsa couldn't help, but agree. Pushing herself deeper in the pillow that is her sister in the quest for comfort, she tucks her head on a soft stomach and place both hands along jean clad thighs. Stopping her brain from going into unwanted territories, she states, "It _was_ always easier to ask dad for things…that's for sure."

The redhead laughs, sending the vibrations outwardly to the taller girl's prone form. "Speaking of…did you plan to only come out to him?"

"Yes." The answer is fast and steady. "With the things I had to say that night, having both of them in the room would've killed me. I purposely spoke to him knowing that mom would be on the phone in another room with her secretary on a daily rehash."

"It was right after dinner then."

Elsa nods, her mind taking her to that night that remains as fresh in her memory as if it just happened yesterday. "It's not to say I didn't want her to know…I knew dad would bring it up that same night to her. I asked him to. But at least neither of them would have a chance of…thinking things over. I…pretty much manipulated them to get exactly what I wanted…"

Green-blue eyes hover over hers, the mirth gone and a steady serious gaze locked on her own.

She's said too much without knowing it, she knows this much…and she finds that she can't match her sister's stare so she untangles herself from their all too sudden uncomfortable position and stands up stock still at the side of the sofa.

The question remains in Anna's face: manipulate? How? More importantly…_Why_? Coming out couldn't have been that bad…not when Anna's own revelation was treated as, first, an exasperated helpless shrug, then general acceptance.

But Elsa evades the unspoken question, just like they both knew she would. Conflicted light blue eyes gaze up at the stairs and she breathes deeply before looking back at the redhead whose gaze is still on her rigid form.

"I need to make some phone calls…to the school," the blonde states, her voice rough and uncertain. "Please have Kai call me down when dinner's ready. Otherwise…"

She doesn't have to finish. Anna understands too well. The smaller girl nods, getting up from the sofa and makes her way up the stairs first, demeanor hunched and countenance confused. She doesn't say another word. She doesn't even look back. Elsa thinks that maybe she's forcing herself to get used to it—to strained silences, unanswered questions…to a closed off sister that leads to constant disappointment.

AN: Nothing much to note. One-sided convos? Yeah, I'll do them in this fandom too. I do what I want!

Tripower: Hey hey! There's some kind of…camaraderie or something…finding someone you know somewhere you're not expecting them in…:D It's good to "see" you again…and I hope to make that heart bleed…Not sure if that sounds like a good thing or not. I'm a bit afraid of drawing out the angst here, all things considering.

Supremacy of Chaos: :) Glad you like it so far. Here's to hoping I keep you attention with a fic in which nothing much happens…hmm…

justareader21: Thanks for reading. I can only hope to make them in character enough that it's believable in the end.

Volchise: :D Another familiar "face". Haha I was kinda worried about posting this though I'm not sure why…Here's to hoping it'll be good.

caders: :( I'm sorry checking my profile page hasn't been very fruitful the past year or so…I think I've pretty much scrapped the idea for a sequel to HP, although the plot bunny is still in my head. I don't know, I guess there's no motivation there or something. As for Homecoming, that's definitely a complete fic. I hope you enjoy this one as much as the others.


	3. Chapter Three: Wake - Funeral

Chapter Three: Friday-Saturday/Wake-Funeral

The number of guests are dwindling with maybe twenty-five to thirty littering the entirety of the house. Elsa checks on her wristwatch, bites an inward sigh at the time: 9:47 and looks across the room to where her sister is having a morose conversation with an older gentleman.

They hadn't spoken since last night, the abrupt end of their conversation not something either one wanted to reopen.

So, the silence prevailed. Of course they had spoken to each other—a good morning, a hello, small snippets that wouldn't be construed as conversation to an onlooker's perspective. It was a bit lucky that they were both too busy all day with the wake preparations; the situation had been easily pushed to the back burner. Even if given the time to think it through, Elsa still has no clue on how to fix this ongoing problem of strained silences between her and her sister. Not without divulging the biggest secret she has, and she'd rather have the silences and her sister than risk the entirety of their relationship and end up not having her at all.

Back to square one.

She sighs, outwardly this time and makes her way to the open caskets at the edge of the living area. The funeral director had called not too long ago saying that he was on his way to pick them up. Ten, sharp. The need to see them one last time takes her again, and before she knows it, she's there, standing in between two white coffins, her father on the left side and her mother on the right.

Alexander, with a nary hair out of place is wearing a black three piece suit. Just three feet away, Helene is wearing a navy blue dress, her white skin a heavy contrast against it. He looks roguishly handsome. She looks achingly beautiful.

And she hates it. She hates how they look like.

This was the first thought that graced her mind seven hours ago when the funeral director had come in with a bunch of men to haul the caskets into the house, and the thought hasn't receded in the least.

The gashes, cuts, and bruises that were staining their bodies were gone, but not without consequence. Make-up. So much…it made them both look completely artificial—as if they weren't human to begin with. When the caskets had first been opened she literally stood at each of their sides for a little less than five minutes, staring at either one of their chests. Maybe a naive part of her was still alive and hoping for something impossible…a rise of the chest, a beat of the heart…Even after knowing this feat is beyond the realm of a miracle, the child in her was still desperate to cling on to something upon seeing them. And that same feeling disintegrated in the same moment.

Lifeless doesn't even come close to explaining what they looked like. They barely looked like the people she remembered back from when she saw either of them last. No blemishes, freckles, wrinkles, imperfections. The evidence that they lived their lives…were masked over…in favor of heavy makeup. It almost makes her want to lean over their lifeless figures with a sleeve over her hands so she can wipe all the artifices away.

"It doesn't look like them."

She's unable to hide the sharp inhale the sudden voice behind her elicits, but she wipes the surprised look quickly enough when Anna stands at her side. She only has half a mind to agree.

Her sister leans towards their mother, a soft knuckle grazing lifeless folded hands. The action makes Elsa inwardly cringe. It's almost as if she does the action itself, the tips of her hands feeling wax in the place of skin, hardened and cool. Her fingernails make crescent moon indentations against her palm, eyes lingering first at her mother, then at her father.

She finds that the last vestiges of her patience has dissipated for the evening.

"Mr. Reynolds will be coming in five minutes to pick them up," she says quietly, gaze falling behind them towards the waiting staff still hard at work and the lingering guests watching them from their peripherals. "Can you…can you see to the rest of the evening? Ask Kai for help…if nothing else."

She meets turbulent turquoise orbs gazing at her in defiance and resignation at the same time. She's afraid the redhead will refute her for a moment, but she's only given a small nod before she's walking away again, the sight, the _smell_ of her parents sticking even as she steps further and further away.

She's not sure where she's going until she's in front of a heavy wooden door. Of course…of course her subconscious would lead her here…

Her fingers graze over a cold wooden surface, her mind miles and miles away.

O—O

_Knuckles ghost over a heavy wooden door, three sharp raps reverberating through it before her courage could leave her. _

_This is it. No turning back now…_

_There's a brief pause, just small enough for her to question whether or not she should try again or run the hell away before a short, "Come in" decides for her. _

_She grips the cold knob, resolutely ignoring the way her hand is shaking and rattling against the hard steel and before she can convince herself that this was, most certainly, the worst idea she's ever had, steps through the threshold._

_Light brown eyes look up at her, momentary confusion and surprise ringing there before warmth._

_"__Elsa?" How her father calls her sounds like a question and a statement all at once. _

_"__Hi," she greets even though it's kind of moot._

_He pushes the papers in front of him aside and sits up higher, his back ramrod straight against his executive chair. Elsa is sure he doesn't mean to, but the action makes him less fatherly and more authoritative figure-like—intimidating. _

_When she keeps her spot at the door, her hand still embracing the door knob like a lifeline, he gives just another momentary pause before inquiring, "Are you all packed?"_

_The sudden question startles her over-charged brain, but she nods nonetheless. "As far as I know the boxes are waiting in the condo. Anything else I need is in my luggage."_

_"__And your car?"_

_"__It'll be shipped tomorrow. They'll require a signature and the keys."_

_"__Kai has it taken care of, I'm guessing?"_

_She nods. "He assured me he'll handle it."_

_"__Good." He scoots lower on his chair, slouching easily and the inadvertent intimidation that coiled his body language subsides. He sweeps a strong hand towards the chairs before his desk and gives her a crinkly smile. "Sit down…and tell me what's on your mind."_

_Blood rushes through her cheeks in embarrassment. From what she didn't know, but she can only nod in acquiescence before sitting down on the straight back chair to her left. _

_The silence is deafening, the palpitation of her heartbeat thudding in quick successions against her ears and forcing the tremors in her hands to flow more violently. She places them on the chair's sides, gripping the handle in hopes of alleviating the gaping maw in the pit of her stomach before looking up again to warm, concerned light brown orbs. _

_She nips the inside of her cheeks from the growing anxiety before breathing deeply in tandem, wondering how to even begin to explain a huge part of herself she's been masking for…two…three years? How did it start? How did it get this bad? _

_She blinks once, twice, and finally starts, her voice as small and unsure as she's feeling. _

_"__I know I'm in no place to ask, but I need a favor."_

_Her father exhales so heavily in apparent relief at her words that it's almost comical. It would even make her chuckle…if she isn't about to divulge a secret that she knows will tear her family apart._

_His smile is easy, albeit questioning. "Sure. Shoot."_

_She breathes in deeply before stating in one fell swoop, "I would like to cut off all contact with Anna starting tomorrow."_

_And just like that, it feels as if all the heat and warmth in the room has evaporated, leaving nothing but biting cold in its wake. _

_Her father's eyes are wide open at her words, alarm, confusion, concern and various other emotions flashing over his visage. _

_"__Wh-what…?" He closes his mouth momentarily, possibly to collect himself before sitting straighter in his chair, his full and undivided attention now at her bent form. _

_She finds that she can't match his stare so she opts to look at the front of his mahogany desk, her attention darting from the grain of the wood to the intricate carvings made on its face, and back again._

_"__Elsa."_

_The voice of authority is back…one she hasn't heard in ages. It forces her eyes up to meet his and she can see his morose countenance, lips pursed in a thin line and the notch upon his brows deep. His gaze bores through her, unflinching, searching. _

_It forces her to reach deep within for a viable answer. The truth, eventually, but not so abruptly that it would merit a possible ailing heart condition. At the very least she wants to feel like his daughter for another ten, twenty, thirty minutes, because who knows if he would still look at her in the same way after. She knows he wouldn't. There'd be now way he could look at her with the same pride and joy after this night. _

_"__Please explain yourself."_

_Her hand clutches at the wooden handle, the whiteness of her knuckles seeping through already alabaster skin. The lump in her throat is annoying, the air around them cloying, suffocating her already drowning mind. _

_Didn't she have a whole speech planned out just for that statement? Hasn't she been preparing for the better part of the year for this moment alone?_

_She wills her brain to defog and inhale deeply, the smell of old tomes, paper, ink, and her father's aftershave reaching her. It's familiar and protective…and strikingly enough, just the thing she needs to get over the lump in her throat, her fraying nerves, and the maze that her mind has been driving circles in. _

_When she looks back upon her father's just as serious demeanor, she knows the time is now. She clears her throat, praying that her voice won't break at a crucial point and locks with still confused, light brown eyes. Sitting straighter, she removes sweaty palms from the chair's handles and places them over her lap, her fingers clutching at one another as a last indication of her unease. _

_He waits, patiently, worryingly, for her to start. In her eighteen years, she's never been one to disappoint if she could do anything about it. In this instance, she controls every aspect. Disappointment of having no explanation is not even an option. Disappointment from her actions and words…well…She'd just have to take the plunge and go for it. _

_"__When I leave tomorrow…I want it to be the last day Anna will ever see me."_

_"__Elsa—_

_"__I'll leave my cellphone here with you so I don't receive any texts. If she ever asks for my address, please provide a fake one—_

_"__Elsa, stop. None of this is making any sense."_

_She breathes in, her lungs feeling shallow and weightless. She means to trudge forward, but stops as Alexander gets up from his chair and makes his way around the large table and onto the seat to her right, his eyes never leaving hers. He stops her next words with a stiff palm between them, the same hand coming up to push errant strands back as he looks at her imploringly, light browns confused, but above all worried. _

_"__Why? Why this? Why now? Why…ever?" When her mind draws a blank statement that could answer his query, he continues the inquisition. "What brought this on? Nerves of being on your own? Being in a different place where you won't know anyone?"_

_She shakes her head, unable to, once again, look into his concerned features. _

_"__Elsa, you can't ask me to do these things for you without a valid reason. Why would you want to shut your sister out? Have you had a falling out between dinner and ten minutes ago? You were cordial then…I just—I don't see what brought this on." _

_"__It's been a long time coming."_

_She says it so quietly that it's almost a whisper, burning shame and regret lacing every word. It serves to confuse the eldest male Andersen even more. _

_He nods, wanting more than anything to understand the jumbled puzzle placed before him. "Alright, let's hear it from the start then. Has Anna done something unfavorable for such a drastic action?"_

_She shakes her head, her gaze falling at the floor near his spotless loafers. "No, nothing like that. She's…perfect. Too perfect…"_

_His frown deepens at her words, fingers coming up automatically to scratch his mustache and five o'clock shadow. _

_"__Elsa, this is what we're going to do." _

_She looks up at him in rapt attention, his serious demeanor first and foremost in her mind. _

_"__I'm going to sit here quietly. I won't interrupt, I won't speak, I'll just be here. Listening. Tell me everything you need to say. Don't leave any words out and just…be frank with me. When you're done, give me time for what I have to say, and then we'll come to a conclusion we're both happy with. Okay?"_

_There's no way she can disagree with such a request. She nods just as Alexander leans into his chair, his serious eyes trained on hers and lips pursed in a thin line. Unable to meet his steady gaze, her eyes drift back down towards the ground. _

_"__It's not something that came suddenly," she begins, voice so soft she can barely hear it herself. "Maybe…maybe it's because I've been watching her this whole time that the thought easily changed from something innocent from one day, to…something that's not, the next."_

_She breathes in deeply and stares at the adjacent wall, seeing, but not quite assimilating the books neatly stacked against the wide shelves. "The memory that's ingrained in my mind is from Sophomore year. I was home from school, doing homework in my bedroom one afternoon, and Anna came in. She had just come back from cross country practice, looking the same as she had been every day I've seen her, but that day…"_

_She trails off as she looks back at her father, sees his light brown eyes widen in muted, understanding horror. _

_But he didn't stop her. Of course not. It was part of the deal. _

_"__That day, all I could see was the way her shorts were too small, and her shirt too sweaty, and too clingy, and _when_…_when_ did she start getting curves? When had she stopped becoming my cute little sister and turned into an…alluring…forbidden…girl?"_

_She hears the rough swallow at her declaration, her father's Adam's apple bobbing uncomfortably. His draws a heavy, sharp inhale and before more can come out of her mouth, his hand is at his collar, loosening his tie and inadvertently popping a couple buttons out of his dress shirt from the sudden and strong pull. Yet, he retains his vow of silence and although his gaze is now stuck to the dark, outside world, brows knitted in conflict and hands upon his temples and mussed hair, she knows his attention is still wholly divided to only her. _

_"__I thought it was a phase," she continues, even though she didn't want to anymore. Her insides churn in discomfort and she has the strongest urge of throwing up her dinner. "I really wished it. I tried ignoring her for a while because of it, but she was…unsurprisingly resilient. Locking doors didn't help, we live in the same house. Shutting her out only managed to hurt me just as much—I can't ignore how miserable she was whenever we ate dinner or spent time as a family together so…so I thought, if the only way to stop feeling for her is moving far away…then I should start planning for it. In the meanwhile, because deep down I've already planned on not seeing her again when I would make my eventual move, I would spend as much time as possible with her without crossing any boundaries…because I'm weak…and only human…and I _do_ need her."_

_Her short pause gives way to him gazing at her, and she's afraid of how unfamiliar the look he sends is. She tries, vainly, to search for the familiar emotions that this confession should elicit: disgust, anger, confusion, but his light brown eyes seem…intuitive, at best, and closed off, at worst. _

_She clears her throat of the rough patch that's made its home there and continues even though her chest is starting to hurt from the heaviness of her heart. "I've planned this…retreat…for years, dad. It…these _feelings_…they're getting worst after every day. I'm afraid of it. More than anything, I'm afraid of what I can do if I step one line out of bounds. The last thing I want is for Anna to find out. It would ruin this family. I know this. That's why I have to go. And not just the next city over, or even the next state. I need to be physically far. As far away as I can. I would try to get out of the country if possible…but I found I'm too scared to go quite that far._

_"__Even then, it won't matter how far I detach myself if I don't completely immerse myself of this…amputation. So…I'd like to cut off all contact. I'll leave my phone here—she'll never know that I'll have a new number. She'll ask for an address so please provide a fake one or…I don't know, possibly intercept said letters. I can't risk having anything to do with her. The hold she has over me—something she's not even aware of…If anyone ever finds out…it would ruin our entire family. I can't risk that. Not for my own selfish desires."_

_There. Everything, laid out in the open. _

_This scenario, where her father isn't shouting angry expletives and instead looks forlorn and so deep in thought is one she thought was least possible. At the very least, she expected disgust riddled with disappointment, but other than light brown eyes still impossibly far away, jaws clenched shut, lips pursed in a thin line, and brows notched in deep trenches…nothing. _

_The nervousness is back within seconds of permeated silence, and she finds she can't control the ticks her body makes inasmuch as her forbidden feelings for her sister. Her hands are wrestling control over the other, nails digging into flesh and the pain is what keeps her rooted and waiting. It will be minimal in comparison to what her father will eventually say. _

_"__Elsa…"_

_Here we go…_

_She looks up, light browns gazing at her in concentration. _

_"__Have you thought over what this can do for Anna?"_

_The question is not something she's expecting, but she answers it as best and as thoroughly as she can. "I've…thought of scenarios involving how she'd be without prolonged contact with me. I…think in the end, she'll be fine. Anna is wonderful at making friends. It's an eventuality that she'll replace me for a classmate or peer."_

_"__You feel that she can replace a _fifteen year_ bond?"_

_A rhetorical question?_

_She answers anyway. "Yes…given the right circumstance and people."_

_"__The same Anna that has looked up to you since I can remember? Who…not only tries to emulate your actions and words, but does so without apology? I mean, only recently has she come in terms that she's her own person and that change is…a relief, but I feel it's nigh impossible to simply…remove yourself from her life. Not without long term consequences. And of course, you haven't spoken to her about this separation?"_

_"__Of course." It should go without saying._

_"__Then this would completely blindside her."_

_"__Dad…I'm trying to choose the lesser between two evils. I've…made lists—pros, cons, everything under the sun. This has been in my mind for…_years._ I _know_ how it looks. I've imagined it in every angle. The only angle I never want to see is the worst case scenario. You and mom under enormous public scrutiny. Can you imagine what they'll say? The stories they'll cook up? 'Oh Judge Andersen's daughter…look at how _sinful_ she is. If he can't control his own daughter, how can we place him behind a desk and judge people?' 'Oh, Senator Andersen's daughter is the very fabric of what's wrong with society. How is someone with such conservative point of views able to preach to the country if her own _daughter_ defies them easily?' It will ruin your lives! And Anna's…especially Anna's. They won't even see her anymore…They won't see her brightness or her innocence. They won't even acknowledge the fact that this is something beyond her control. She'll just be a forbidden icon. And all because of me…Of feelings I can't reign in."_

_Hot tears start spilling, first from the corner of her eyes, then in a pulsating wave beyond control. She's shaking, breaths impossibly shallow that it becomes harder and harder to inhale, but the thought of Anna, of the chance that this will ever reach her, is the only incentive she needs to know that she's making the right decision. Pushing the smaller girl, ultimately out of her life, although it pains her to even just _think_ about it…There's really no other option than this. If there were, she'd take it. Jump the opportunity and never let go. But she's seen to every single scenario…and in the end, this could only hurt her, and not her family. _

_She doesn't hear the small creak the other chair emits, or hears her father shuffle as he stands. She's too far deep in her sorrow and thoughts, and the sudden cold hand in her burning cheek surprises her so much that she recoils at the touch. But her father's steady gaze is locked on her own, and instead of the anger and disgust she's been expecting to see, there's only contained sadness. _

_The fact that he's still willing to touch her—to be in the same room with her—leaves her grasping at what little hope she had prior to knocking on his office door. Silently, he wipes the tears still leaking from her eyes and darts between each light blue orb, his mouth opening and closing in indecision. Then he releases a long sigh and drops rough hands atop her own. _

_"__I wish you'd spoken to me about this earlier."_

_She manages to give a wry smile. "But then that would've defeated the purpose of backing you into the corner to get what I want."_

_His lips curve into a small, helpless smirk that drops just as soon as it arrives. Shaking his head, he gives the spot behind her a pointed look before matching her stare again. His jaw set, eyes closing first in thought, then opening in resignation, he gives her an all too familiar look. A decision has been made. _

_Elsa awaits silently for her judgment. _

_"__I will do everything you say…on one condition."_

_She sits up, her attention only to him. She sees uncertainty in his countenance, his mouth opening and closing in tandem as if trying to find purchase. But whatever the condition, she'll meet it. She has to. _

_"__I want you to reflect on this one action that will shape the rest of our lives," Alexander says in a steady voice, giving her a pointed look. "What you mean for your mother and I to do, is to lie to your sister, so that you can run. In the least complicated terms, this is how one can look at all of this, right?"_

_Elsa nods, swallowing around the heavy lump in her throat. _

_"__If I am to take everything that you want at face value, this means that I'll never see my two girls eating a meal again, sharing a laughter, being…together."_

_"__I would assume you'd prefer that now that you know the monster that I am."_

_He shakes his head dismissively. "Elsa, take away the house, the money, the reputations, the careers—take away all of those materialistic things…and what's left?"_

_She doesn't know. Her mind, the jumbled mess that it is, is now taking everything in a second at a time._

_"__Family," he answers when nothing but silence comes from her end. "Your mother and I have built all of this…for you and Anna. It's not to say we didn't do it for ourselves as well. That came before the two of you. But the minute that you were born, the importance of everything else went to the back burner. And the minute Anna joined, Helene and I _vowed_ that family would always come first. It may not seem like it to you and your sister, what with us coming and going for our jobs, but from the very start, this family has always been our number one prerogative. This family's continued _happiness.

_"__Now, I'm only agreeing to this nonsense because of your intentions. If they were any less pure, I would dismiss it. Tell you to get over it or conceal it or—whatever. But I'm not blind. I can see that this decision isn't easy, least of all for you. Anna will have me and your mom. You…" His hand reaches up to her cheek again, pressing a rough thumb against her cheekbone. The action makes her feel like she's five years old all over again. "You won't have anyone."_

_"__Maybe it's a form of recompense." _

_"__Bullshit."_

_She doesn't hear her father curse often so when he does, the words always resound with force and clarity. _

_"__I don't believe in that crap," he spits out again, and she sees blame in his eyes, but it's not towards her. "There is no slight, Elsa. And because there's no slight, there's nothing to forgive. I don't believe in a world where love, in its most basic and pure form, should be something to apologize about."_

_His rough words feel like a soothing balm in her bleeding heart. _

_"__When you're done feeling this way—not…not the way you feel for your sister, but this…self-harm—this guilt and disgust with yourself…I want you to come back. This is your home. We are your family. There's nothing that we can't handle if we do it together. I don't expect you to lift the world in your shoulders and not feel the burden. But, if this is the decision that you've made, I want you to see through it, and when you fail which I am praying to God that you will, I want you to come back and face this. Like an adult. When you're ready, I will be here. Your mother will be here. And Anna…something tells me Anna will understand. And she'll still love you, regardless of it all." _

_The dam of emotions break, and she finds her bawling form balled up in her father's rough, strong, and loving embrace. She's not sure how long they maintain that cramped position on the heavy wooden floor, her hands clutching desperately at his dress shirt as he only continues to hold her tightly. But his words elicit hopefulness, a feeling she had dug and hidden away long ago. And what can she do, but agree to his thoughtful, loving words? How can she disagree when he's surpassed all of her expectations and more? She had expected to lose, at the very least, her father when she decided to come clean. Instead, she's reminded solely why she holds her father at such a high esteem. _

_It's not the title. It's not the accolades. It's not even merely because he's the head of their household. It's that he has all of this and yet he's able to maintain being a loving father and a decent human being all at the same time. _

_She's struck with the thought that she wouldn't know what to do if he wasn't in her corner like this. Her sole "mission" would certainly be impossible. But the thought slips away as easily as it had come. One thought remains: he'll always be by her side, and nothing can give greater comfort or relief. _

O—O—O

The capsule rolls around on her open palm, her eye catching the small green line encompassing the white colored majority. She wonders briefly if Elsa is still planning on having that drink with her, tries to forget the past twenty four hours of near silence, and drops the medication back into the amber container where it bounces minimally with similar looking pills.

Best not to take chances regardless.

Her sigh is heavy as she twists the lid back on and shoves the bottle deep in her underwear drawer. The thoughts of titrating up again so her body gets used to the medication makes her almost want to throw all of it in the drain, but then she'll just end up having to get new ones. Not that it's hard. Kristoff'll just write a new script.

Her attention flitters to a dress hanging outside of her closet door. Black. All black. No shade lighter, can't be any shade darker. She wonders briefly who set that precedent. Why black? Sure it's a morose color, but blue can be too. Gray is the epitome of a sad looking day, so why not gray?

She steps towards it, index finger and thumb rolling over the delicate material that she sees and doesn't all at the same time.

Her mind is, unsurprisingly, not in the bedroom with her. That has been the trend for the past few days, ever since the reemergence of her sister in her life.

Elsa.

She's still not sure what to make of everything. On the first day that familiar comfort of having the older girl back was just such a relief that the thoughts, the _stagnancy, _of the past…what? 1,866 days? It just didn't seem important. Her sister was back. She was talking to her! Everything was back to normal!

And at the same time, it was not.

She doesn't have to be a rocket scientist. She doesn't even need the reminder of the last five years that things are different.

There's a wall. It's high, mighty, and seemingly impenetrable. She can start climbing it. She can try to grip on the cracks, edges, and bumps to guide her along the way, but eventually she'll come upon an impasse. She'll try to hang in there, but without help, it's an eventuality that she'll fall…and she'll have to start all over again.

That's what everyday with Elsa has felt like.

They can be cordial and supporting at first, then mere strangers the next. It's…dizzying. There's no better word for the whiplash that is her relationship with this almost stranger that's now living in her home.

Sure, Elsa looks the same. She even braids her hair the same way as before! Same light blue eyes. Same platinum locks of hair. Same…confident countenance. And yet…there are so many different things now.

There's a tightness in her eyes that weren't there before. Her body language is closed off. There are times when she's like the old Elsa—playful, kind, and generally wonderful to be around. And then the stranger comes back…sometimes with a vengeance. All of the sudden Anna's being pushed away, greeted by a stiff back, hard words, and little—_no_ explanation.

Ever since she's uttered them, the redhead had wanted to take the words back.

"_I won't ask."_

She wants to. There's nothing else in this world she wants more than that. She wants to open up the proverbial can of worms and address the huge pink elephant in the room. She wants to be spoken to like an adult and not be spared the details. She wants…she wants her sister back.

Why does that small thing have to be so hard? Why is it that this circumstance…their parents _dying_…how is this the only way for Elsa to come back?

Why couldn't she be a good reason?

And for the millionth time, a dreaded thought comes to mind: would the older girl bother to come home if _she_ had died?

And her brain. Once so optimistic and full of possibilities can only give a pessimistic answer.

She almost rips the dress off of the hanger as the resounding _no_ ebbs through her brain.

She has to get ready. The mass starts at one sharp and she hasn't even showered yet. Hell, she hasn't even had breakfast. It's no matter. She hasn't had the appetite for anything these past few days and this morning is no different.

She makes showering a quick chore and puts on the black dress wordlessly, topping it off with a black silk cloth above her hair, twin copper braids sitting at the sides. As she's pulling up some black stockings, a knock emits at her door, a thoughtless, "Come in" coming out of her mouth as she slides on the other pair.

She looks up to see her sister, much to her surprise. Since her arrival, the blonde had not made a point to visit her room or…otherwise find her. It's off-putting, but not something she wasn't expecting.

"Yes?" She doesn't mean for her voice to be so irritated, but waking up in the wrong side of the bed with nothing but thoughts of this day's conclusion hasn't done her any favors.

There it is again, that tightness in those light blue eyes, pink lips pursing in…what emotion is that? Distaste? Anger? Guilt?

The younger girl can't find it in herself to care at the moment, still too peeved at her older sister's insistence to this blanketed silence that's permeated between them for the better part of two days.

"I was wondering if you were ready…or if you needed help with anything."

The blonde's voice ends up sounding soft and sincere, and it grates the younger girl even further.

"No," Anna says shortly, standing up from the side of her bed and giving a sarcastic flourish at her body. "As you can tell, I'm fine and ready to leave."

But Elsa closes the door behind her instead and approaches the smaller girl with notched brows and worried eyes. The stranger is gone, and her sister has made her reappearance. Anna finds she can't match that concerned gaze so she instead looks at the older girl's dress, finding a small comfort in the tiny fact they both kind of look the same, minus the hair; Elsa's is up in its braided bun without a knotted cloth atop it. She looks unapproachable…and the redhead can only briefly wonder if she's done that on purpose.

Her hair was like that last night, and although she had greeted and conversed with many of the attendees of their parents' wake, Anna knew that the blonde hadn't been there in spirit the whole day.

Elsa walks until merely a foot separates them, and the redhead still can't seem to match her stare. A small part of her is afraid that the older girl can see just how, for the lack of a better term, pissed she is at the situation in general. Even after this whole time, Elsa's opinions and words still matter a great deal to her…a weakness she's not allowing herself to show.

"Anna?"

That low, husky voice gathers her attention, flits her eyes up to concerned light blues trained on her.

"Aren't we going to be late?" she asks, hearing herself sounding petulant but not caring nonetheless.

Elsa merely shakes her head as if she doesn't care about that at all either. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"What's there to apologize about?"

Passive-aggressiveness is so not her style…but she'll just…go along with it. But she wasn't counting on her sister's genuine answer.

"Me."

Anna swallows the discomfort in her throat and looks away.

"I know I've been difficult, especially since I've arrived. And I know you've gathered every bit of your patience to put up with me. I want to thank you, and apologize for being…me."

The redhead sighs and dons a black pair of gloves sitting at her bedside table. She hates how easily placated she can be, but for some reason, Elsa's always had that shortcut to her heart. Not that she'll forget this slight, but…she can cover it for at least today, right? Their parents being buried should be of paramount importance than her silly notion of family and what it is now that half of it is gone.

She can feel her frown still on her face but she gives a resigned smile anyway, noting how those light blue orbs flicker and brighten just a tiny amount.

"I'm sorry too," she ends up saying, placing her hand in between them in a familiar gesture. "For being short…and kind of difficult."

"You're not," the older girl assures with a smile, and takes her hand before leading her out of the room. "I've come to an early conclusion that it's not you, it's me." And before she can make a dissenting noise at the small words, Elsa continues, "But I'll try harder. God knows we both need me to just…stop acting like an emo-child for once."

Anna can't help it. She snorts, an untrained smile dancing up her countenance. She can see her sister grinning at the words too and it serves to make her feel the lightest she's been within the past couple of days.

How is it possible for her sister to have this much reign in her happiness?

But she shoves the thought aside and follows the blonde step by step out of the house and into the ever waiting car.

They sit in the same positions, the action familiar and safe and as they make their way out of the estate, Elsa hands her a blueberry scone wrapped in a paper towel.

"I also brought coffee for you," the older girl says, sweeping her hand to the side where a closed mug sits snugly on the cup holder.

This. This is the Elsa she remembers. This is the Elsa she _misses._ Because that stranger that comes and goes _looks_ like her, but the warmth and familiarity that Anna associates with her sister is so much more palpable than what she physically looks like.

"God, I love you." And she doesn't take it back because she does. Despite the constant cold shoulders and the please-let-this-go-for-now looks, Anna sees past all of that so easily and the gestures, regardless of how small and insignificant they seem, rids Elsa of all other imperfections and slights.

She begins munching on the scone, not bothered in the slightest of her sister's sudden stillness. Looks like she is hungry after all…but after she has her fill, she looks at the quiet, somewhat reddening blonde and gives her a raise of the brow. She doesn't question the silence though, or her sister's unusual quirky habits. Maybe in due time she'll get used to them. A pressing matter holds her more as she leans forward, grabs the coffee cup and takes a careful sip of its still hot contents.

"You ready for the eulogy?"

The sudden question seems to take Elsa out of her thoughts and the blonde graces her with an unsure smile. "Yes, although I was wondering if it's at all possible if…we could not take turns for it."

"You mean go up together? At the same time?"

The blonde nods all too quickly. "I mean, you can speak first, if you'd like and I'll speak second. It doesn't matter much…so long as I'm not up there alone."

"You want me to ask the funeral coordinator to stand next to you?"

Her joke lands her a playful mean look from her sister which she just laughs loudly at. It feels carefree and buoyant, and she hopes this feeling will last. She's still giggling a bit madly as a black, gloved hand takes hold of her chin, and she smirks challengingly up at her sister whose gaze bores down at her.

"Yes, on the funeral coordinator?" she jibes unapologetically.

"No," Elsa says, much too seriously and the redhead notes the way light blue eyes dilate slightly at the action. "I need _you _with me."

The younger girl's smile freezes on her face, her heart seizing at the open declaration.

And then there are times when this happens.

Her first year of high school, prior to the blonde's departure for college, feels like the closest they've been, ever. Closer than when they were children and had the innocence and naiveté to play and spend time all day together. Anna knew somehow that the three year difference between her and the older girl would someday make its presence known, and what better time for it than the fetid, hormonal driven cesspool that is high school?

At the start of her Freshman year, she had expected Elsa to be closed off, as most older siblings are to their younger family members—a sort of superiority complex that only comes because of age and nothing more. Even more-so is the fact that the taller girl would be a senior and, really, who in their right mind would hang out with a freshman if they're a senior?

So, Anna psyched herself up for this. She waited for the eventual separation, teases, and superiority complex she's seen happen to other friends, in television, the media in general—all that is expected of a normal part of growing up. Of course, this was only in school. People have a part to play after all. At home, she expected Elsa to be the same loving, playful older sister that she is; her understanding of social hierarchy and its importance in the high school experience is limited, but strong.

The redhead knows her place. She'll just play her part.

And then Elsa goes and blows her mind.

It was lunch period. Anna didn't know anyone. The cafeteria, although quite a large space, seemed to close off when you stand at the foot of it wondering where you can go. She had friends from middle school, but didn't know the majority of their schedules. She tried to find a familiar face, but suddenly _everyone_ seemed to be staring at her, in a jeering and mocking way. In the back of her mind she knew no one actually gave a damn, but the nervous ticks of her pulsating heart thrummed like a bass line in her eardrums regardless, giving way to easy trepidation.

She suddenly remembered a favorite movie…and wondered if she'll have to spend the first lunch period in a bathroom stall of all places. Then, mercy came.

"Anna, don't stand there or people will bowl you over."

Not a second later and someone nudged her shoulder as they careened past her and to a waiting table.

"Elsa, she's so adorable…"

Anna doesn't know a lot of Elsa's friends. No one ever came to their house to visit or study, or anything. But the girl at her right side gushed regardless while the blonde only looks at the redhead expectantly, and only then does she realize that the older girl's hand (the one not balancing the food tray) is held out for her to take expectantly.

She took it. The action is almost second nature. She'll take that hand regardless of the time or place because she trusted the person holding her with her life.

She learned that year that social convention has no place in Elsa's life. The blonde, although a senior and a popular one at that, spent every lunch period with her, even when her other Freshman friends started joining their table. Of course the older girl would have her own classmates there too, but Anna always found that her attention is easily warranted and even more, easily handed. If Elsa ever had to choose between spending time with a classmate or her, she'd always win. _Always_.

It also showed her a side of her older sibling that she wouldn't have been able to see anywhere else. Her Elsa was nice, warm, and open. The one she showed openly at school and their peers is cool and standoffish, almost…introverted.

It took some getting used to, but in the end it only made Anna feel even more special. The way she was looked at by those light blue eyes…it felt different from how Elsa regarded everyone else. There was an openness there—a slightly possessive look that the younger girl knew was only aimed at her.

In retrospect, that had been the best year of Anna's life. The next several ones thereafter had been so bad that she found her mind would easily just think back—back into that stifling cafeteria with a plethora of mixed food in the air and generalized mumble while she and Elsa are stuck in a little corner, a combination of their friends gathered around them, but there was always an impregnable bubble around the two sisters that no one can burst.

The thought that she might've imagined that whole year sometimes washes over her head. They were so close. And then, with nary an explanation…her reason for sheer happiness disappeared.

The look that Elsa regards her in now is reminiscent to those days. The majority of them were soft and endearing…and then there would be these. Possessive, hungry, piercing. Anna would feel a stutter in her heart, her breaths coming short and quick, and she wouldn't know what to do about it. Just like in those days…she would just readily agree to…whatever the blonde had asked prior because the blaring hotness would start, the overflow of heady emotions, and she would just have to shut it off before it goes into uncharted territories she's not willing to venture through.

"Do you?" She doesn't realize how quiet, willing, _submissive_ her voice is until it comes out, and to her growing horror, of course, her face is starting to feel hot and red.

Oh why would that question slip out of all words? Her neediness is showing…

Elsa's eyes widened infinitesimally, darting between hers erratically before the older girl leans back, dropping her hand weightlessly between them.

"Yes, okay Elsa." She doesn't want the stranger to come back. She's had enough of that persona for at least the rest of the day. "I can talk first," she continues, taking another sip and running her teeth atop her suddenly burnt tongue. Her mind had wandered enough for her to forget that… "Or if you'd prefer…"

She trails off as the older girl shakes her head and they both simultaneously move back into their seats, trying to find comfort when it has little to do with what they're sitting on and moreover their stewing emotions.

On part of small favors, at least the ride to the church is short and after a couple minutes of stifled silence in the car, they've reached their destination. The day is hot and muggy: eighty-seven degrees and rising. It would be one of those mockingly clear days; weather unbefitting for a burial. Anna has half the mind of wanting it to rain just so it would feel as if the world is weeping with her for her loss. Of course, that's rarely the case. She could give a damn about the world and the world acts in the same accordance.

She had expected the church to be filled to the brim of self-important people and she isn't wrong. She, and her sister are given stiff nods at their arrival, pursed smiles, sad, depressing looks.

She really can't wait for this day to be over.

It's not that she's ungrateful for these people and their sympathies. In a small recess of her mind she's a bit happy. These people, if nothing else, serve as a reminder that her parents had been alive and had used that to touch other people's lives one way or another. But she's sick of this strong facade she and her sister has to wear. She's sick of the looks given her way— all the same. Poor child, lost her parents. She doesn't need a reminder. The hole in her heart is sufficient enough. One look at her sister and she knows, only the older girl can understand this numbing mindset.

They make their way into the first pew, greeted by the funeral coordinator with the same sympathetic smile. She glances at the middle of the church, at two unopened white coffins, colorful array of bouquets and wreaths and…the painting.

It seemed archaic at the time, possibly even arrogant, but her mother wanted two paintings done: one of their entire family and then another of just the two married couple. It reminded Anna of those kings and queens from medieval days, sitting in one cramped position while the artist paints a canvas of what they want the world to see them as.

The latter of the two paintings greet her now, her father with a morose countenance standing with his back straight and a protective, heavy hand over her mother's smooth shoulder. He donned an all black, three piece suit, his face seemingly too serious for such an event. Meanwhile, Helene with her hair in a bun, reminiscent to how her sister currently wears hers now, is sitting on a straight back chair, a demure, almost passive smile on her face. The white dress is a stark contrast to Alexander's suit, giving her a look of purity unattainable by other means.

She had been ten when the paintings were made and she remembers nothing but her impatience the whole day. It's not that anyone expected less of her. The outside world was blanketed in winter's first snowfall that day and she could care less about a painting—she wanted to be outside and wreck havoc on their otherwise pristine yard.

"You remember that day?"

Elsa's low, quiet voice gathers her attention, sending a nostalgic smile upon her visage.

Anna nods. "Mom looked like a queen."

"And dad had to bribe you to stay put."

"Worth it."

The blonde chuckles into her hand, her expression showing mirth splashed with nostalgia. "At ten years old, you were easily placated enough."

"Hey, I kinda did both of us a favor by acting like a total brat. Wasn't the trip to Disney World that summer worth it after?"

Elsa's eyes twinkle back at her. "Yes, it was. Thank you."

She smirks, arms crossing in mock arrogance across her chest. "You're welcome."

Their word play subsides shortly after, the organ at the side of the church encompassing the building in an introductory hymn. The procession begins solemnly. Anna couldn't remember the last time she was in a church, but following people's cues as to when to stand, sit back down, and kneel is easy enough to follow, although for someone who didn't care for it the whole thing just seems ridiculous…She keeps her silence though, eyes trained on either one of the closed caskets and from time to time gazing at the painting.

A small, guilty part of her feels that all of this should make her sadder—that the past couple of days of bereavement she had gone through isn't enough; not for her parents who she did (does) love dearly, especially because of the pain and hard times she had put them through. But it seems that there is a breaking point for sadness, where to be numb is the only possible feeling. That's where she is now—too numb to cry, yet too sad to feel any other emotion.

What the pastor says goes right through her; a white noise in an otherwise silent background. Then after what seems like forever, the funeral coordinator begins talking as well, the words, again, a blather of stuff she can't seem to assimilate. It's only because she's not really trying though, and again, a small, guilty part of her feels like she should…try.

She feels a sudden tightening on her wrist, Elsa standing up and looking at her expectantly after. She'll have to thank her later for being more attentive, although knowing the older girl in general, Anna's not all that surprised.

She follows the blonde out of the empty pew, her wrist still encompassed by a strong, gloved hand and walks with her up the minimal amount of steps. She can feel the amount of eyes on her back and normally the feeling would leave her at least a little nervous, but there is an apparent upside to being numb.

Another few moments and they're at the podium, Anna stepping forward to the mic and looking over the sea of expectant faces. She feels Elsa behind her, and is all of the sudden glad that the older girl had asked to be beside her through this. Being face to face with this solemn crowd, despite her initial nonchalance, has turned into an unexpectedly nerve wracking experience.

Maybe she should've prepared a speech instead of opting on improvising…

Too late now.

She clears her throat, pulling the mic towards her and cringing at the feedback. She hears a distant cough and it serves to tighten her stomach even more.

"Don't mind them. You'll be fine."

The voice behind her is soft and quiet, just barely enough for her to decipher. And she wonders if Elsa asked to be up here with her for the older girl's sake or for her own—it's starting to seem like the latter. Again, she wouldn't be surprised if Elsa did just that. With renewed vigor, she follows her sister's words and turns so that her mouth is still in front of the mic but her body and attention is towards the caskets, her stare particularly on the painting.

"I was ten when that painting was made," she begins, her ears picking up the echo of her voice as it resounds through the cathedral. She allows her mind to be taken back to that day, willing herself to forget the people listening intently at her words. "I don't quite remember which month or day, only that it was the first real snowfall of the year and I wanted to be outside. To a ten year old, there really can't be anything better than a snow day. So, of course I had plans, and that required being outside all day with Elsa. And then, like all good plans, it was thwarted.

"Mom made us dress into these really formal clothes _after_ I've already put on my snow gear—I swear she purposefully waited for me to get my jacket on. No, it doesn't matter that she told us the night before that this was going to be happening…it was a _snow day_!"

Elsa giggles behind her, the sound resounding in her ears much more than the polite laughter sifting through the crowd.

"So, ten year old me threw a fit," she continues, her mind showing her memory in picture perfect clarity. "Mom, wouldn't have any of it. She threatened video game rights, earlier bedtimes, no _desserts_. She threw her whole arsenal at me. I didn't really understand it that time even though a part of me knew that things like that, in which all four of us can be together in one place, is rare, and that's the only reason why it was such a big deal for her.

"So there we all were, in the second living room. Mom and Dad were behind us and to the side, Elsa and I sitting on the chairs and I was pouting like such a petulant ten year old. _Nothing_, not even my sister promising to spend all day with me out in the snow after could placate me, and the painter was having a hard time—apparently I'm not very photogenic when I'm angry, bawling, and over all being difficult. And then dad said something. Now, I've mentioned before that mom and dad get pretty busy. A lot of you would understand why better than either of us standing here. But then dad said something along the lines of pulling back _Disney World_ tickets if I keep misbehaving. And a lot of you probably think, 'Oh well, Disney World? So what?' But I can't stress enough how big of a deal it is, when your dad is a corporate lawyer and works at least a hundred and twenty hours every week and your mom is an up and coming senator and is working even more…"

Her voice breaks. Oh, why did it have to break? The rough patch begins climbing in her throat, the heaviness in the back of her eyes coming in tandem, and her jaw, once easy to move and control, becomes locked, teeth clashing upon teeth. She feels movement behind her, a steady hand coming upon the small of her back…and she knows, deep in her mind, that Elsa had asked to be up here with her, not for the blonde's sake, but for her own. The tears, the ones she thought had evaporated completely, leak too easily, blurring her eyes from the perfect painting still in her line of sight.

"I can't begin to explain," she continues, voice rough and low, full of emotion she doesn't want the world to see, "how wonderful they were. To the majority of the people in attendance here today, they were good people. For me and my sister, they were even more wonderful parents. They always made time. Even though everyone else needed them…they made time for me and Elsa. If I ever needed anything, they were only a phone call away. Even if they had other important matters to attend, they'd shove that aside, just for me.

"How hard is it to acquire Disney World tickets? It's not. How hard is it to get two very busy people to sync their schedules so that they have four days to spend with their two children in which there are no interruptions, no phone calls, no business suits, no work?" She pauses. She lets the thought sit, in her mind and in the thoughts of the solemn crowd. "Only now that I'm an adult do I understand how hard they've worked to keep me happy. Dad always said that family came first, and there were times in my rebellious phase that I didn't believe those words at all. I hate that these things—this knowledge, always come after. Why is everything always in retrospect? Why does it come to me now, of all times, when they're gone and I can't just call them or tell them?"

She means to keep going, but she can't. The block in her throat hurts, the constant spikes in her heart even worse. There are so many things left unsaid, so many questions left unanswered. So many missed opportunities…

She wants to at least say goodbye. To thank them for everything, even the reprimands and especially the life lessons imparted. She wants to be able to go to her dad's study and find him there, scratching his light brown hair with a pen and a concentrated look upon a hard at work visage. She wants to be able to call her mom in the middle of the day, make a lunch date, and stretch it for as long as she can—Helene had always known what she was doing but never berated or said a word against it.

More than anything, she wants to be ten again, slouching on her father's lap as he placates her slowly of open promises, her mom sitting beside her with an apologetic smile, and her sister grinning at her exasperatedly for her insolence. She wants to go back to that day and relive the two hours spent sitting still, seemingly well behaved when her parents are looking and making funny faces when they weren't, the painter looking half harassed and half exasperated but not being able to say much of anything. She wants the several hours after, where all four of them had enjoyed the rest of the day outside, their father dragging them around in a makeshift sled from a wheelless red flyer wagon and their mother tempting them back in the house with promises of hot chocolate.

She wants that entire day back, and regardless of what she knows now, she wouldn't change a thing. Maybe just little things…thank them a bit more…act a little less selfish…be a better daughter.

Her choked sob catches in her throat just as she feels her sister's body beside her own and she turns without another word, hands clutching on a black dress and face burying against a strong, but soft shoulder. She doesn't care that everyone can see. She doesn't care that she's probably too loud in the too silent church.

She just wants her family back.

She can't wait for this day to be over.

O—O

Two sets of eyes watch as amber liquid splashes against a tumbler.

"A bit more."

Light blue eyes flicker up at her, scrutiny written in the orbs, but her older sister says nothing—merely pours a bit more, just as she asked. Then, she pours the same amount to another similar tumbler and places the decanter on the table, the loud thud reverberating in their otherwise silent surroundings.

Anna grips the cold glass and pulls it towards her, losing herself in the golden waves and splashes.

"To mom and dad," Elsa says and raises her cup.

"To mom and dad," she follows, her voice soft and cracked.

The glasses tinkle between them and in one simultaneous motion they down the drinks in one fell swoop.

The redhead's face scrunches as the bitter burn cascades down her throat, fire following in its wake. She hisses, the action followed shortly by Elsa as well and the picture of her older sister's face cracks hers into a smile.

"You look ridiculous," she states, laughter and mirth in her tone as the taller girl looks up at her with the same scrunched face.

The blonde clears her throat loudly, eyes narrowing at the whiskey inside the glass decanter.

"I've always wondered why dad liked this stuff…"

"It might be a man thing," Anna replies, eyes following her sister's. "Didn't it look just so…grown up? I loved watching him drink alcohol. Made me want to grow up so that I can do adult things."

Elsa laughs, hand gripping the glass bottle and tipping more of its contents on their empty glass tumblers. "And now that you are? Was it worth the wait?"

"I wish they would've told me how sucky it is…" the redhead mutters, grabbing the glass again as soon as the blonde is done pouring. They carry the glasses up in the air again as she says this time, "To dad's whisky supply."

Tip, swallow, hiss.

"I mean, when you're a kid you don't have to worry about anything," Anna continues, placing the glass back down and eyeing the table. "Your biggest worry is growing up so you aren't so stifled with the rules…And then you come to realize, those rules were…wonderful!"

"Taking a nap in the middle of the day?"

The smaller girl nods enthusiastically. "Having a set schedule for eating?"

"Being sick and staying home from school?"

"Not having to worry about whether or not mom and dad's money are going to waste by getting an art degree?"

Elsa snickers. "Can't be worse than going out of state, getting your own place, having to pay non-residential tuition for the first year, _and_ getting a monthly stipend on top of it all."

"Maybe as bad as four years of therapy."

All movement stops between them, her older sister's hand in midair towards the decanter but her light blue eyes fixed on hers. The silence that follows stretches, Elsa's mouth opening, but no words coming out.

And Anna knows she's not drunk enough for this yet.

She moves towards the alcohol this time, surprised momentarily at how heavy it actually is and pours another shot for the both of them.

Locking eyes with still shocked ones, she carries the glass and waits for her sister, only stating, "To mom and dad protecting us from getting older," when Elsa matches her pose.

She doesn't wait for her to drink, tips back the alcohol, and grunts loudly at the heat that her throat still hasn't gotten used to.

"Anna—

"You know how the last five years is your taboo topic?" Her query is met with the silence she's expecting. The bitterness coating her tongue and the heat in her chest makes the words easier somehow. "This one…is mine."

Elsa looks at her, the older girl's countenance apologetic, but still unable to say much of anything. When the silence stretches too long and Anna thinks they may have to finish this toasting session early, the blonde tips her head back and downs her drink, light blue eyes staring at the ceiling in deep thought before matching her stare.

The redhead smirks, her peripherals catching the decanter. Seventy-five percent left.

"So…what's the easiest way to finish this?" she asks, falling back easily into comfort, but only because they both know it's a worn out and bad mask.

The blonde looks towards the empty kitchen, remembering that she had dismissed everyone for the day, including Kai. It seems the same thing has gone through both their minds: they'll probably need food sometime…and chasers even sooner…

At least the latter is much easier to acquire.

"A movie shots game?" Elsa recommends, getting up and taking the tumbler and decanter with her.

Anna follows willingly, the idea sounding better and better the more she thinks about it. "Pizza for dinner?" she asks, taking her phone and squinting at the dull looking screen. The alcohol is hitting rather early…Although three shots in a timespan of five to ten minutes may not have been a very bright thing for them to do.

Whatever.

It's a good idea. Movie, pizza, whiskey shots. They'll be too busy eating to talk about their situation. They'll be too busy watching the television to be looking at each other's uncertain, cloudy, worrisome expressions. They'll be too busy numbing themselves of feeling…anything.

It's a good way to end the day.

AN: /Sigh, the angst just keeps on coming. I guess it's an eventuality until they reach that road. I'd like to take this little space to thank favorites, followers, and reviewers. :)

Tripower: The angst in this fandom is insane, although with the original premise of them being sisters, it's understandable. As for the AU ones, I think everyone just likes feeling like they're dog just died and wants to relive that feeling…I dunno. People are weird (me included). I'll try for something a bit more lighthearted for next time. This fic has been a real downer writing, let me tell you.

Danae Endemyon: :D Thank you.

Anon: Well hello to you too and thank you for reading. Updates are a reader's best friend.

Volchise: Always great to see a review in my inbox :) Glad you're liking it thus far.

Geology . Rocks321: I guess this chapter answers your question. I like delving into character's POVs and Anna was surprisingly easier to write. Maybe cuz confusion is easier than straight up Elsa angst. But the way my head intends to write it (which means it's subject to change at any time because I'm indecisive like that) is a POV per two and a half chapters, so you'll hear Anna's bit and Elsa's as well. Thanks for your interest and review.


	4. Chapter Four: Sunday : Aftermath

Chapter 4: Sunday : Aftermath

She wakes up to cottonmouth, a steady thud in her right temple, and a combination of sickeningly sweet and bitter taste in the back of her throat. Only one word can suffice her currently muddled mind.

_Hell…_

She opens sleep bleary eyes, hates herself because the pounding has doubled from the sudden onslaught of filtered light and the need to simultaneously throw up and urinate is overwhelming. She stumbles none too gracefully out of bed, only a fraction of her mind alert enough to wonder how she got there—she definitely doesn't remember coming up in her own volition—and the rest of her mind tossing it in the unimportant for now bin. Jelly legs manage to navigate her to the direction of the hallway bathroom, her gaze falling upon a surprised and worried blonde as she opens the too heavy door of her own bedroom.

"Anna?"

It's not that she means to ignore the worried call, but the lump in her throat is making a comeback, and this one has nothing to do with unadulterated sadness or bereavement. A weak hand grips the cold wall for support, same jelly legs guiding her again to her destination. She doesn't answer back, but feels the strong body pull next to hers regardless, a firm hand clutching her waist, and her body automatically leans against that strong frame heavily without protest.

They make it to the bathroom and they don't even bother turning on the light. As soon as they cross the threshold and she's near enough to the toilet, she kneels down, forgets the weight of her seemingly heavy body, pulls the toilet seat back, grips the porcelain edges with both hands, and wretches.

Pizza toppings, cheese, the coke they used as a chaser and, of course, the main culprit…

Why does everything taste so disgusting coming back up?

She feels soft hands around her neck and shoulders gathering disarrayed hair up and out of the way as her back arches into another session and her stomach roils in protest, her esophagus and throat leaving bitter burn in their wake. The smell is rancid—enough to make her eyes water and her hands to shake uncontrollably. The grip she has on the cold, but at least clean (thank god) bowl only increases.

This. She wonders how people can stay as alcoholics when this…the day after…is the best deterrent in the world. A drinking buddy once told her that alcohol is borrowing happiness only to repay it with accrued interest the next day. No wiser words have been spoken then or since.

Oh god, why did they have to finish the whole bottle?

She hears a shuffle behind her, one hand leaving, but the other remaining around a bundle of her hair. She hears the faucet turn on just as another bout of nausea hits her and, after another moment, a glass of water appears as if magically in her line of sight.

"Gurgle and spit."

The command is quiet, but insistent, and she can't (doesn't) have the willpower to refuse let alone argue. A shaky hand grips the lukewarm glass and she knows she looks utterly pathetic and she hates it right now, but does exactly as her older sister has asked.

The water is a bit too warm and has an iron tang taste to it, but she doesn't complain. Instead, she splashes it as best as can around her mouth before spitting it back over the toilet, watching in sick fascination as all the colors coalesce almost…artistically. Elsa does both of them a favor and flushes it soon after.

She keeps her kneeling, haunched over position regardless of the throbbing her knees are starting to bleep out until she feels her stomach is done being overly dramatic.

"Ughhhh…" She was never one to be very articulate in the morning, and this specific one is not a normal one by any standard. She pushes off the toilet bowl and into the fiberglass tub, her heavy body thudding against it. The sudden jolt doesn't feel good, but she finds at least her knees aren't protesting anymore…and the tub feels mostly nice and cold amidst the heat stifling in her system even though it's hard and not very pliable against her bent back.

She attempts to open tired, watery eyes to whatever semi-darkness that's in front of her and can only make out the silhouette of her sister.

"Stay still and let me clean you."

Her head falls back and makes a small thud against the tub, deciding against all good decisions that it's the next best thing to a pillow that she can get. A cool towel is pressed against her face, first around her mouth and then to her cheeks and forehead. It's refreshing and cold and as soon as Elsa's done with the corners of her eyes, she finds she can open them just a little bit wider. The darkness of the room is helping a bit, but the throb pulsating in her right temple has traveled towards the middle of her forehead and crawling to the left as more seconds pass.

She lets the the pampering continue, the older girl turning and rewetting the towel from time to time as it moves to her neck and down her back, firm rubs and ministrations soothing over too warm skin. It ends much sooner than she'd like, her gaze catching her sister turning towards the faucet and turning it off before looking at her again, her countenance a mixture of worry, mirth, and affection.

God, she needs to pee…

"I'm gonna go get you an aspirin, water, and saltines. I'm sure you need to pee, and hopefully you don't need my help for that."

_Psychic jerk…_

Anna sticks her tongue out, but her grateful smile belies the action. She has half the mind to say she didn't ask for help, but a huge part of her is glad for it. She can't remember when she was taken care of so easily without the other party member expecting something in return of her.

"Turning on the light," Elsa says with a hint of warning. "I hope it doesn't burn your retina…"

She can feel her eyes shrink in protest at the flicker of fluorescent lights, a grumble in the back of her still bitter throat erupting as the pain in her eyes and forehead seemingly double.

"Goddamnit…"

Her voice is rough and patchy, the sound of an emphysema patient in her last day.

"Do you need help going on the toilet?"

She hears the playful jab on the older girl's voice, and she would glare at her for it, but she knows her face is too pathetic for any type of emotion right now.

"Jerk…"

The laugh that follows the closing door is lilting and musical. How the hell is she in such a good mood when they both drank the same amount of alcohol the night before?!

Begrudging life and its unfairness, Anna manages to stand up with the help of the tub, pull down her pajamas and begin a more normal morning routine. She finds that she's definitely able to tinkle by herself (yay for small favors), wash her hands, and brush her teeth without any additional help. A knock resounds just as she's scrubbing the filthy feeling atop her tongue.

"Ngyah." She takes the toothbrush out of her mouth and spits the wad of toothpaste into the sink. "Come in."

Elsa's back with the promised items, just in time because her left temple is now singing the chorus of mistakes and overindulgence on a verse that the right temple started. She scoops up some water with her curved palm, pushes it up her mouth and cleans her mouth again, hating the fact that toothpaste and all its minty wonder still can't banish the bile bitterness coating the back of her tongue and throat.

The blonde merely stands beside her, a small plate with five saltines and two aspirins on one hand and a tall glass of water in another. After cleaning her face again, she turns to the older girl, grabs two crackers and stuffs them simultaneously into her mouth.

"All of it before the aspirin."

She grumbles, sighs, keeps her position steady by gripping on the counter, and munch on the salty, crumbly crackers. Swallowing them proves to be difficult because of the dryness.

"Drink some water. Don't choke."

Did she become a psychic overnight?!

"Yes, mom," she grumbles in between swallows and stuffing the other three crackers in her mouth.

"Anna, take your time—

"I'm tired and cranky and I just wanna fall back in my bed," is what she wanted to say, but with three crackers in her mouth, it might as well have been "chubby bunny" and Elsa wouldn't have known the difference.

But apparently, the older girl did become a psychic overnight because she merely nods in understanding. "Chew, swallow, drink the aspirin, and then I'll help you back to bed."

The cajoling makes her feel like she's seven all over again, a thought that isn't that bad when she ruminates on it. Her unfocused gaze lands on the the white plate, eyeing the just as white, round aspirin tablets sitting on a corner and as soon as she's able to fully swallow the crackers without them feeling like they're lodged uncomfortably in her throat, she tosses the pills in her mouth and drinks the whole glass in one hurried motion. She opens her mouth and wiggles her tongue at her sister, showing that she did, indeed, swallow the pills.

Elsa merely gives her an unimpressed look. "What're we in prison?"

The retort makes her laugh, her head falling on a strong shoulder. "I feel like shiiiiit…"

"Yes, yes," the older girl nods, pacifying her by first brushing her unkempt bushy stack of want-the-hell-hair with a smooth hand, then taking her by the arm and leading her back into her bedroom.

She follows wordlessly, and amidst the pulsating throb in her head and still overall uneasiness in the pit of her stomach, at least her chest feels light, and that feeling overrode everything else.

There were countless times within the last five years in which she'd dwelled at the thought that Elsa had possibly hated her. How else could she explain the sudden disappearance and zero contact? Being busy was a good excuse maybe for the first month…maybe even the first three months if she was being generous, but then her birthday came. Now it's not to say she's vain to think her birthday's important. When she was a kid she definitely thought this, but growing up leaves you kind of jaded over a period of time. She really did think that she'd receive at least a call though—a well-wishing for a good day. She wasn't expecting a present even though the older girl had always given her one since she can remember. Then the day came and…

Her parents took that day off. She remembered because she told them it wasn't that big of a deal. She had school anyway and that would take the majority of her day. Her friends wanted to celebrate it with her over the upcoming weekend considering her birthday was in the middle of the week, but her parents assured her it was fine and that it was just a happy coincidence that they were able to have some time off simultaneously.

When she looks back on it, she found that they had tried everything under the sun to keep her occupied that day. Her mother had taken her shopping, their father tagging along and carried their shopping bags much to their mirth. After, they had visited a summer fair in Staten Island, and walking around, looking at booths, and going on rides had taken the majority of their evening. But despite all their best effort and intentions, they couldn't stop her from checking her phone for a call, a text, a voicemail, once, twice, maybe hundreds of times in a timespan of several hours, each empty attempt leading her even more downtrodden than the last. She had tried to keep the happy facade especially when her parents' attentions had been on her, but when they had finally gone home for the evening and still nothing…that was quite possibly the first night Anna believed her sister hated her.

That thought lingered, festered, and from time to time, even presently, the same train of thought passes over her head. Ever since Elsa's sudden reemergence though, she's began to wonder if this was true all over again. She'd be lying if she didn't say that everything the blonde said and did has been dissected to a tee by her overworked mind. She sees every reaction, listens to every word spoken, observes…everything being given and shown to her.

Did Elsa hate her?

If the past twenty minutes is any indication, the answer would be a resounding no. If anything, it showed that the older girl cared for her, maybe even as far as going the polar opposite direction and say she loves her.

Then why? What is it? What did she _do_?

They arrive at her bedroom, the blonde pulling back the wrinkled comforters with her free hand and leading her into it with the other. As she settles in the cool confines, the other girl walks towards the windows purposefully and throw back the semi opened curtains until the room becomes as dim as it can get. She then walks back to her and tucks the blanket around her supine form, warm fingers brushing her hair back over her forehead and leaning in to give her a small kiss there.

"Sleep," she instructs, eyes serious, but the affection there obvious and present. "I'll come in with more water. If you need some I'll leave it at your bedside. If you're still asleep within four or so hours, I'll wake you up and if you need more aspirin, we'll try to get some more food in you before anymore meds. Okay?"

Anna nods, feeling like a child and wanting it to last. The older girl begins turning away and she mindlessly reaches out and catches her wrist, getting her attention back. She sees the question laced in her sister's face and she wants to ask, the words bubbling in her throat.

Instead what comes out is a strained, "Thank you" and she doesn't take it back because Elsa's smile is soft and endearing and patient, and above all loving.

The blonde turns back to her and tucks her exposed arm back inside the blanket, warm thumb and fingertips caressing the side of her face. "Anything for you, Anna." She's given another soft smile before the older girl turns and heads out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

_Anything. _

But she knows that's a bold faced lie. If she can have anything she wouldn't be in this confused, half awake state. She'd have answers, explanations, justifications for the past five hellish years that's been her life. She wouldn't be in perpetual confusion.

Her head throbs, reminding her that she shouldn't be thinking any harder than she already has, and she groans, turning to her side and wanting her body to just stop _feeling_. She grabs the comforter and pulls it over her head. Maybe in the cover of near darkness, her fears and overworked thoughts can't find her.

O—O

Anna wakes up to a familiar smell wafting in her room, her stomach grumbling in reflex and her mouth watering in tandem. She pushes the sheets until they're pooling at the bottom of her stomach, her fingers attempting to rub the sleep out of her eyes as she watches her sister close the door to her room, food tray in hand and a steaming bowl atop it.

She sits up, pushes the pillow against the headboard and waits eagerly for Elsa to cross the room.

Her throat still throbs every now and then, but the headache is mostly gone and her stomach isn't causing any further unrest; a small victory that she's thankful for.

"How're you?"

She leans, looks towards the bowl eagerly, and her mouth waters even more as the blonde places it on her bedside table next to the water.

"Good," she answers, eyes unable to look away from the food.

"Hungry?"

She can sense the sarcasm implied in the question, but ignores it. "Famished."

"Oh, yours is downstairs. I thought you'd still be asleep and I wanted to eat up here."

Anna's eyes narrow, but before she can say anything else, Elsa's laughter rings through the air and the food tray is set up in front of her, a full glass of water on the side, another pair of aspirin tablets sitting on a napkin, and most importantly a bowl of brisket pho before her.

"Pho Thanh's?"

"Indeed."

"I love you."

"I know. You seem to only express it when food is handed to you."

"I'm easy like that."

She peels off the to-go chopstick wrapper and pulls the wooden utensil apart, picking off stray wooden shavings before digging in with gusto.

"Not too much hoisen and pull back on the sriracha. I don't think your throat wants anymore additional trauma."

"Aww, but sriracha…" She pouts, but does as she's told, adding a bit of both into the broth and mixing it before eating once more. "And you?" she asks after swallowing a mouthful of noodles. "Did you eat already?"

"A few hours back," the blonde answers and sits on a chair directly at the side of the bed. It wasn't there before and Anna briefly wonders if her sister has been here the entire time while she was dozing off.

"What time is it?"

"Closer to three. Mom and dad's lawyer is coming at five. If you want, I can reschedule him for sometime next week."

She shakes her head, clamping some more food on her utensil, bringing it up in the air, and watches mildly fascinated at the white smoke that emits from the meal. "Might as well get all that legal mumbo jumbo taken care of."

"I couldn't have said it better myself. But are you feeling better at the very least?"

The redhead grins, the content from enough sleep and now a full meal making her easy company. It's as if Elsa knows exactly how to turn her to puddle—it's kind of amazing. "Yes, loads better from this morning, although I'm sure you can probably see that."

"Yes, the poked bear expression is mostly gone."

"Mostly?"

"Yeah, your hair's still making you look like one."

"Jerk."

"Bears can be cute."

"While we're on the subject of bears, why didn't _you_ look like one this morning?"

Elsa shrugs, as if keeping a well known secret.

"You went all bulimia last night didn't you?"

The half-harassed look given to her is comical and answers the question all the same.

"Better throwing it up the night before than the day after. Sometimes you're lucky and it saves you a hangover," the blonde replies, sounding as offended.

"Relax Elsa." Anna laughs, sipping some of the soup and liking the way the heat trickles down her battered throat. "I think if I didn't pass out last night, I would've preferred that."

"Yeah, who knew you could be such a lightweight?"

"We drank the same amount!"

"You passed out first. I had enough sense and strength to carry you _up_ the stairs and to your bedroom."

"You didn't have to…"

The older girl shrugs. "You're as light as you look."

She keeps a steady gaze over her sister knowing she's not quite done.

"Light as a feather…ten tons of feathers—

"Jerk."

Elsa laughs again, gets up from her chair, and stands at Anna's bedside, fingers smoothing through unkempt copper strands. From the younger girl's peripherals it looks like it might be resembling the fabled burning bush.

"I'll probably just take a shower," the redhead says, even though the feeling of fingers scratching her scalp feels nice.

"Probably a good idea."

The older girl doesn't stop though and continues her ministrations giving Anna the time to finish her late lunch. The silence around them is comfortable and broken only by her slurping and contented groans. She burps loudly for a resounding finish, grinning at the tsking sound her sister makes.

"Aren't you the picture of sophisticated grace?"

Anna shrugs. "I try. How's your quest up there?"

"Arduous. I'm curious as to how you get rid of these knots."

"Meh, if I'm lazy I'll just put my hair in a ponytail and be done with it."

More tsking, Elsa retreating but only to take the food tray from her lap while eyeing her hair dubiously. The younger girl finds that it's mostly patted down and the rest can be taken care of with a shower, a lot of conditioner, and her trusty hairbrush.

"Can you help me braid it when I'm done?" The thought leaves the redhead somehow elated.

The older girl smiles and nods and looks at what's leftover from the tray. "No need for aspirin?"

"I feel better, but I'm not sure if it's permanent or fleeting."

She pushes the comforter off and gets up from the bed in one fluid motion, catching her sister take the pills and putting them on her bedside beside the extra glass of water. The just-in-case factor isn't missed by her, and seriously, the amount of devotion and affection she has for the older girl is at an all time high just from the goings on from the last several hours. She catches the slim waist, clutches tightly, misses the surprised expression because her eyes close reflexively, and nuzzles Elsa's cheek, winter mint and the same baby lotion they've used since they were kids filtering through her nose.

"Thank you," she breathes, and holds her even tighter. "Really, for everything. Thank you."

She feels a strong hand fold over her arm, fingers carding through her hair as the older girl returns the affection. She decides not to press her luck though and retreat out of the hug, giving another grateful smile before going into her closet and flinging the door to it wide open. To say she's in a better mood is a rough understatement. She's not sure what the rest of the day will bring considering she's slept through most of it already and opts for tan shorts and a fitted miscellaneous band shirt from high school. Dressing up for a lawyer just isn't in her list of very important things.

"Gimme twenty minutes," she says to Elsa as the latter starts heading out of the room with the food tray. She's given a nod and a smile before the older girl leaves, giving her time to rifle through her other drawers for necessities for her shower.

When she has everything she needs she makes the familiar trek to the bathroom, puts her items on the counter and turns the shower on.

As she waits for the desired water temperature, hand darting to test it out every now and then, her mind brings her back to her thoughts prior to her second sleep. Getting rest hadn't pushed it back and out of the way, much to her chagrin. The thoughts, insecurities, and anxiety are all still present and accounted for. It's not that she's deluded herself into thinking it'll go away. The thought never really does because of the unexplainable fear that lingers, catches her unawares...that she had done something in the past to push her sister away...and if she doesn't find out what it is, history is bound to repeat itself.

Her freshman year—the year before Elsa's departure for college—flashes through her mind just as she takes off every article of clothing and steps in the shower, head bent under the spraying jets so that it completely immerses her and gives her the desired effect of putting her mind completely in the whims of her memories.

Rivulets of water course over her face, eyes closing forcibly as the water thundered on around her.

She searches, tries to turn every rock, look at every nook and cranny she hasn't visited yet. But she has…Of course she has. This is a standard shower routine. The question of why the past five years had to happen—is happening now—directly correlating to her first year in school. She's come to the understandable conclusion that she must've done something to incite her sister's…abandonment; she wonders briefly if there's a better word to define the last several years and comes up empty handed. Prior to that year, they had been close. As close as two siblings can get, and possibly even closer. Her friends certainly don't speak of their older or younger siblings in adoration like she does—quite the opposite in which they'd be vocal of how much they detest them in one form or another.

But she and Elsa had never been like that. Of course, as any siblings would, they'd have a tiff or row, but it's never been so bad that it's prolonged and causes an unimaginable rift between them. Although, in her concentrated state she remembers that there was that timeframe when she had started middle school and Elsa should've been a Sophomore. She remembers a month in which the older girl had shut her out, much like the last five years, but not with the same fervor—a locked door is easier to bypass than taking a trip across the country to an unknown address…

Her heart lurches, eyes opening blearily to a watery surrounding and the noise around her seemingly doubles.

How had she forgotten that?

She wills her fogged mind to continue its reminiscence, frustration growing in her chest as she's unable to recall it clearly enough.

Middle School. She was in the cross country team at the time. She remembers that small detail because she would always come back from a late practice or meet, probably smelling too pungent for anyone to want to be around her, and knock on a door that's suddenly not open anymore. There was no explanation for it and when she had asked her mom and dad, they had explained that Elsa probably just needed alone time. She was a growing girl who needed her own space. And although Anna could understand that just a little bit, she knew even in her then feeble mind that there was more to it than that.

The blonde had just suddenly and without warning _stopped_ all interactions. Every one of her queries, if she chanced a meeting in the hallway, were rejected. Sometimes Elsa would say she's too busy with school, and then there were times when an explanation wouldn't even be justified. More than anything, those had pained Anna far more than any halfhearted excuse. At least with the latter, it would seem like the older girl was making an effort to give a reason for her sudden aloofness. When the excuses became nil and all that met her was silence and constant evasion, it just made her feel like she didn't matter anymore—that giving an excuse, even the empty ones, wasn't important. A direct correlation to how Elsa saw her? Even if that wasn't the case it certainly felt like it…

And then, when it seemed like the rift between them became unfixable, everything returned to normal. The taller girl stopped locking her doors. She began inviting her in to help with homework, school, projects—anything her heart desired, and just generally started hanging out with her again, doing everything together, and more, prior to the falling out. She had been so relieved that she didn't even question why there was that separation to begin with…

And now?

The throb in her right temple is back, a growl of frustration erupting from the back of her scratchy throat. The water's suddenly too hot and impeding her overworked mind so she dials it down a notch.

What's the connection? What happened that year and in her Freshman year that made her sister just…stop caring about her? She doesn't like thinking about it in that manner because it's callous and cold and nothing like the Elsa she knows, but as before…there's no better word available that can match it.

She wishes the answer would just come in that bright light that makes up epiphanies. She wishes it can just come to her, an obvious answer to a complicated question. So she can stop it…whatever it is. It has to be something she did. This is a forgone conclusion that she had accepted years ago. She did something that caused the impending separation. She just wished someone can shed some light into what it is so that she won't be doomed to repeat the same mistake.

She can't lose Elsa again. A life without her sister seems even more impossible now that she's tasted what it's like with the older girl back in her life.

The heavy sigh that expels from her mouth is drowned by the still thunderous water. Her shower thoughts has taken too long…as it usually does.

The rest of her ablutions are done posthaste, her mind elsewhere and her body doing the rest in an automated fashion. Not wanting to keep her sister waiting much longer than is already necessary, she halfheartedly dries the majority of the wetness out with a towel and put on her clothes, the whole process shorter than her earlier mind exercise.

She steps out of the bathroom, her hands rubbing the towel against her hair and she walks back to her room, her ears picking up voices from within.

"Ahh, you're the muse."

_Shit…_

"Muse?" she hears her sister ask just as she reaches the doorway, eyes flitting first at Elsa who notices her reappearance and then…at her visitor. She walks in, wariness covering every step as her eyes dart between the two ladies in her bedroom.

_Kristoff is going to have a field day…_

"Hey, Anna," her guest greets, standing from the foot of her bed, and the redhead doesn't realize the strained smile splashing on her own face until it's out for everyone to see.

"Hey…Jenna…"

Her chest feels hollow, the organ inside thudding much more loudly and erratically than she wants and it's causing the rest of her body to follow suit. Why can't the ground just…open up and swallow her whole?

Elsa suddenly stands, taking both of their attention. "I'm going to leave," she says in her matter-of-fact way. "I just wanted to be sure your visitor had company while she was waiting for you."

She hates how all of that sounds so formal in her ears and she shakes her head before any further thought can come out. "Thanks Elsa, but there's no need. Umm, you probably already met, but this is Jenna…my…friend…"

Two pairs of platinum blonde eyebrows quirk up in skepticism at her obvious trail off, and she hates how both of them, when standing from across each other, could drive her therapist's point better than any words or pictures can.

Long, silky, platinum blonde hair…check. A few years older than her and exudes a more mature aura…check. Her sister complex coming out in full view so that even _she_ can't deny it if she wanted to…double check.

Kristoff…would have a field day…

It's not as if they look exactly alike though. Other than the hair, possibly the height, and the age, there isn't anymore similar factors. Her ex-girlfriend's skin is a beautiful tan, hazel eyes bright and expressive. Her face is also more angular and gives her a rather snobby look…although Elsa kind of does that too now that she thinks about it…

She sighs inwardly, her eyes flittering to her guest who's giving her a little smirk she wants to wipe off. "What're you doing here?" she asks, wanting it to sound casual, but completely missing the mark.

"Anna, really, I'm going to go." Her sister gives her a pointed look, one that she can't argue so she merely nods.

"Thanks for…keeping her company." Oh why can't she just not sound awkward?!

Elsa nods, turns to their guest and says in a perfectly acceptable hostess voice, "It was nice meeting you Jenna."

"Same," the other says with a smile, and in another moment the door closes behind them.

The towel whips to Anna's side, her firm grip keeping it from falling. Water droplets drip randomly from still soaked strands, but of course this is the last thing in her mind, the quick fire anger in the pit of her stomach first and foremost.

"What…are you doing here?"

"Well it's nice to see you too Anna."

"Jenna…" She stops herself, pushes shaky fingers through her hair and shuts her eyes to better control her emotions and thereby the situation…she hopes. When she opens them again, her ex is still giving her the smirk she wants to wipe off completely. She licks suddenly dry lips, her jaw clamping in brewing frustration.

"I tried calling you and texting," the other girl says, arms crossing over her chest. "Your friends got worried. Called you. You're not answering. Called me. I don't know what's happened. They tell me. I call you. You're still not answering, so here I am."

The second dose of aspirin is calling to her like a siren. Cold fingers grip her forehead, pressing on her eyes in hopes of alleviating the up and coming headache.

"I drank last night," she mutters, feeling like she owes the other girl at least this little explanation. "I haven't checked my phone since. I've only really woken up."

"You drank?" her ex asks, eyes flashing up at her worriedly. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"I haven't taken my meds in a couple of days…"

A pregnant pause, and then, "Are you allowed to do that?"

"Don't patronize me."

"Anna, people are worried about you."

"Yeah, as you can probably tell, I'm dealing with a lot of stress right now."

"Going off of your meds doesn't seem like you're dealing with it well."

"And how is that your business?"

The pretty face contorts into anger, hazel eyes narrowing in tandem. "We may not be together anymore, but I'm still your _friend_…and I care. _That's_ how it's still my business. You just went through something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. You kind of dropped off of the face of the planet after your parents' burial—what the _hell_ do you think people are going to assume?"

"That I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself."

"Well, not everyone can maintain such a positive outlook."

This conversation (argument) is driving spikes into Anna's brain…She crosses the room, grabs the aspirin, pops them in her mouth, and drowns the bitterness with water before turning back to her uninvited guest. The tiredness she didn't feel before is now imbedded in her bones and she doesn't fight it anymore. She crumples on her bedside, fingers leaving the wet towel and both palms coming up to rub her face tiredly.

"Anna…"

The bed dips at the sudden weight, a warm hand wrapping around her shoulder and it only serves to make her feel even more wretched.

"Sorry," the redhead ends up saying, her fingers prodding at her temples as the other girl's hands begin small circular rubs on her back. "I am okay though, rest assure. Elsa's here so…"

She lets that trail off, doesn't care how the older girl will interpret it. She's in no mood for the unexpected mind games. It's quiet for a little bit, allowing her to gather some semblance of control on her otherwise rebellious body.

She turns to Jenna, the rubs on her back dissipating as she gives her a morose look. "Did you tell her anything?"

"What would I tell her? I was literally here for maybe a minute and then you showed up."

She looks up at hazel eyes, sees the honesty that she wants to see there, and redirects her gaze to the wooden floor.

"Honestly I was too busy checking her out for any intelligent conversation," the older girl continues, her voice sprinkled in mirth and laughter. "She probably thinks I'm a dunce…"

"Back off my sister…"

"Right. She's your property."

She stands up, her back ramrod straight as if the words electrocute her into moving and pausing at just the right stance. She finds her hands are balled into fists and her eyes narrowed in warning at her guest who stands up as well, her palms outward in a placating manner.

"Relax Anna," she says quietly, but firmly. "It was a joke."

"Right, cause having a sister complex is all the rage for stand up comedians," she retorts, her teeth clamping along with her jaw.

Hazel eyes roll in exasperation. "You don't have a sister complex…Your have a type, you know what it is, and you don't deviate. I'm sure your therapist has a fancy name for it that you and I don't really care for."

"Something, something, projecting abandonment issues by going out with girls similar to my sister to fill the void…" she mutters, wanting to punch Kristoff in the face for even saying it loudly.

"See? Doesn't mean you want your sister…just someone like her. Now that I actually met her, I'm kinda proud to have made the cut."

The playful wink sent her way is ridiculous and sends her frown to extinction, the hilarity bubbling in her throat. She doesn't realize it, but her stance relaxes heavily, her mind releasing her body from its tight, choking grip.

"So, seeing as you _are _okay_, _I'll relay the information. Please call your friends so they're not bothering me and I don't end up bothering you—it's a vicious cycle and not one either of us wants to repeat."

She nods, following the older girl who's already making her way across the room and towards the door.

"Thanks…by the way."

Jenna has a hand gripping the knob at this point but turns to her, possibly because of how small and feeble her voice just sounded. A warm hand gathers her chin, forcing her attention up to searching hazel eyes.

"Are you okay? Really?"

She nods, keeping the stare, even though it forces their faces to be uncomfortably close. She's not sure why she feels this way considering all the things they've done together in the past, but a niggling feeling in the back of her mind has her attributing it to the other occupant of the house.

"All things considered, I'm better than I thought I would be," she answers honestly.

"No doubt all thanks to that hot number next door—speaking of which, hey!"

Her guest opens the door in the middle of talking, Elsa appearing at the other side with a fist raised up in what looks to be a general about-to-knock pose. She puts it down quickly enough, light blue eyes flittering between the two of them, but more importantly at the hand still grasping Anna's chin and how close their bodies seemed standing together. The automatic reflex guiding the redhead's hand swats the fingers off her face, Jenna giving her a semi-harassed look followed by a yelp.

"Ass…"

"Go," she instructs, index finger pointing to the general exit of the house. "Next time I don't answer my phone, please stop assuming the worst case scenario."

She receives a sarcastic mock salute. "And for booty calls? Can I just assume you're free, no appointment needed—

"Get the hell out!"

"It was nice meeting you Elsa."

"Yes, you too."

They're given one last feral smile before her guest leaves, Anna one hundred percent sure her face is still reminiscent to a ripe tomato even after a whole minute passes.

"She was interesting," her sister quips, breaking the silence and making her thud her forehead on the doorway. "Anna, don't give yourself a concussion."

"Why can't the ground just swallow me whole whenever I plead it to?"

"Unfortunately life doesn't work that way," the older girl says and gives her a soft smile. "The lawyer is here. That's why I came. I wouldn't have wanted to bother you otherwise."

Anna just waves her hand dismissively. "We were done. She was about to leave."

Elsa only nods, light blue eyes coming upon what the redhead can assume to be her disarrayed hair. Not a second later, and the older girl is pushing her fingers through it. The soft caress makes her want to purr, but she stops herself momentarily.

"No time for a braid," Anna says with a careless shrug, and joins in pulling and tugging some knots. "It's just a lawyer anyway. I'm not even going to attempt looking good for someone already in a ten thousand dollar suit."

They begin walking to the study shortly and for the duration she feels her sister repeatedly glance at her from her peripherals, giving her an uneasy vibe.

"It was nice to meet your…friend, by the way."

Heat scorches up her neck again and she sends a glare towards the blonde who just laughs it off.

"Remember me pleading for the ground to swallow me whole?"

Now Elsa is the one giving her a dismissive wave. "Anna, I'll have to meet a significant other sooner or later."

"I like later…" she grumbles, keeping a watchful eye at the older girl's expression. She's smiling, but something's not quite right. The tightness in her eyes are back, her smile just a little wider—forced?

"You shouldn't be embarrassed. She's an attractive girl."

"Please spare me…"

They reach the familiar, heavy oak door as Elsa turns to her, eyes flashing as her hand comes up and clutches Anna's chin, the action very reminiscent to just ten minutes back with her ex. Just like that time, she doesn't turn away or break contact…so why do both similar actions elicit different reactions from her? Jenna's action made her petulant—rebellious. A challenge she'll meet head on because, why not? She can handle it. But this one…being caught in a spider's trap with the approaching spider ready to eat a meal…there's no closer reiteration that that. It's almost…hypnotizing.

"There's nothing wrong with liking an attractive girl."

And from all that, she misses everything except for her next question. "You think she's an attractive girl?"

Elsa only smiles, the look predatory more than anything. "I can see her merits and attraction factor, but no…she's not my type."

Light blue eyes rake over her features in several seconds that feels as if it stretches into minutes. Then, without warning, the older girl turns away, opens the door to the study, and greets the lawyer waiting at the couch on one side of the room. Anna follows her with only a moment's hesitance, lead heavy legs dragging for some unknown reason.

Elsa sits on one side of the black, leather loveseat and she occupies the other, forcing her mind to stop overthinking things and instead gathers her attention to the middle aged Oriental man before them. He greets them with an easy, likable smile, condolences first, business second.

It doesn't take long for the entire affair to bore her. Money never was an issue for her or her sister—her parents had made sure of it. And now, because of their passing, it's all but a guarantee set in stone.

Twenty percent of their earnings are willed to the charity of their picking, the rest: multiple life insurance policies, retirement funds, stocks, everything…split in half between her and Elsa.

If she had the choice of giving it all away just to have her parents back, there's no question as to what she would choose, and upon seeing the morose look on her sister's countenance, she can tell the same thoughts are currently gracing Elsa's mind.

The lawyer, Michael Zhang, if her memory and fleeting attention serves her right, goes through everything with a fine-tooth comb, precision in every word, details given even when the specifics aren't questioned. Anna finds that the small bit, where her parents included Kai and Gerda to ensure they would live comfortably for the rest of their lives, is her favorite part. She shares a small smile with her sister after being told those specifics and her adoration for her parents grow exponentially more, the singular thought that they really were good (_great wonderful loving_) people a more lasting memory than how she remembers them as in their coffin or, worse yet, the hospital morgue.

An hour in the explanations and she finds she's getting antsy, watching the lawyer with barely concealed impatience and boredom that she quells only because her sister is right next to her.

"This is one of the last things, I assure you," Michael says with a firm smile, and she has enough shame to feel sheepish when he gives her a pointed look. "Alexander and Helene were anything, but unprepared," he explains, placing a laptop on the coffee table between the three of them and taking out a small, square, brown envelope from within the main folder.

It looks to be unopened, the seal still intact as he hands it towards Elsa. She takes it and gives him a questioning look.

"This is an official recording they made for…the worst case scenario."

Anna feels her heart leap into her throat at the unexpected words, her disinterest flying through the window.

"I think both of their careers, especially Alexander's, had given them a taste of life and its fragility so they asked me to notarize each of the recordings they made. In total, in a timespan of twenty-three years, it was changed only two times—the very last time less than a year ago." He turns on the laptop just as the pair of curious eyes rake over the unassuming envelope. "Once this boots up, I'll leave for a maximum of twenty minutes. If the video isn't over by then, I'll give you more time, of course. I was instructed that this was for your eyes and ears only, and I respect both of your parents too much to even consider any other choice."

He gives them a crinkled smile and, when he has a video player up and running, leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

She's nervous. She's not quite sure why, but her heart is beating a frantic tattoo in her ears. She stares at her sister, notes how the latter's fingers are shaky as well as she tears the envelope apart and a standard USB drive comes out and rests unassumingly on an open palm.

Elsa looks at her, expression unclear, confused.

"Pop it in."

The older girl breathes heavily through her nose before doing so, taking only a moment to find the USB port and another for the computer to read it properly before the only document in the entire drive shows in one unnamed folder.

She presses the play button, and they wait, their attention rapt on the small screen before them. In no time at all, it starts, seemingly at the middle of a conversation.

_"…__not as if they'll see this one anyway…"_ Alexander huffs, sitting on the same loveseat they're both currently on and Helene sitting beside him, giving him a cross look. _"We'll change it again in a year…when Elsa comes back." _

_"__Well, it doesn't do to be unprepared…" _their mother says in a semi-reproaching voice and looks at the camera in mild alarm. _"Is it starting…already?"_

Light brown eyes narrow in concentration, looking somewhere near off screen. His face changes when he sees what he's looking for, a serious smile gracing his strong features._ "Yes, yes it is." _

They sit a bit straighter, poised, graceful, the perfect picture of authority and warmth—something Anna has only seen them do, and it carves a new cut in her still bleeding heart to see it again, not through memory, but from something tangible.

She's not sure who moves to whom, but her head is suddenly tucked into the curve of her sister's neck and shoulder, the older girl's cheek pressed on the flat of her limp hair and a strong arm enveloping her in. Their eyes remain locked on the screen, willing for the moment to last for as long as possible and holding their emotions in check until, at least, everything's been said and done.

_"__Hello, girls,"_ their father greets, eyes warm and lips curved in mirth. _"It's me and your mom…obviously…"_

_"__Hello, girls," _Helene waves from beside him, and looks at him as if giving a silent cue to continue.

He clears his throat, face going from easygoing to morose in less than a second. _"If you're watching this, it can only mean one thing and that is your mother and I are gone." _

Anna feels her chest bursts into hot white pain, her eyes following suit, and she can only clutch at her sister's blouse to keep whatever that's left of herself reigned in.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," she hears Elsa whisper to her in soothing comfort, arms gathering her tighter in, but it only serves to make her crumble even more.

The desperate need to take the laptop and hug it within her chest is unspeakably strong and the importance of their last message is the only thing stopping her from already performing said action. Instead, she grips her sister's clothes just a bit tighter, her wrist coming up to swipe accumulating tears gathering in her eyes so she can see the picture in front of them much more clearly.

_"__In that case, I—even though it's probably no fault of ours or yours or anyone's, I want to apologize for the grief and suffering our passing has caused you." _Their father's strong hands ball into fists in front of him, his gaze unflinching at the camera. _"Death is a hard lesson. We can never hope to learn it, but it's an inevitable part of life that everyone must go through. I can only hope that me or your mother is there for you for when it comes…and if not…I sincerely wish that you have each other."_

He turns to his wife, the silent communication clear only in their actions.

_"__Anna," _Helene starts, bright tan eyes soft, apologetic? _"I know the last few years haven't been the best…"_

The redhead sits up at being addressed, but more importantly the statement uttered after. She can only hope her mother doesn't address all of her faults and shortcomings in this video letter; the emotion overload added with a cup of guilt isn't something she can handle at this present moment.

_"__We see how much you're hurting," _their mother continues, her youthful face marred in a helpless frown._ "Please don't ever think we're ignoring it. More importantly, don't think that it's only something we tolerate. Your emotions, frustrations, guilt, sadness—all of it—is directly correlated to your father and my inability to keep our family together. Once upon a time, we were a cohesive unit. Far from perfect, but in my eyes, there's no family better. But we lost it. Now, we're not going to point fingers—that never solves anything. We're certainly not going to blame you or Elsa for it—the responsibility of maintaining the happiness of our family shouldn't be placed on your shoulders. Alex and I made the wrong choice…and starting today we're doing our best to right it. We're sincerely hoping that in the near future, we'll record over this and start over. Give a different message that conveys so much more hope. But…just in case…"_

Alexander clears his voice, strong hands gathering his wife's in a tight hold. _"When Michael comes back he'll give you a key. Both of you know about the safe. I want you to open it, go through the contents inside and…" _He stops abruptly, his free hand rubbing his forehead. _"I wish I was there to explain it…"_ he mutters and takes a second to collect himself. _"Go through the contents. It'll be very self-explanatory when you do. Anna, I'm truly sorry. There's nothing more me and your mother can say other than that. And I hope you don't resent us, but if you do I can understand it. We definitely won't hold it against you." _

Consternation grips her heart, her gaze and her sister's falling over the painting at the side of the study. The twin…to the one buried with her parents. Ten year old her is smiling back toothily, both front teeth missing as she lounges on her father's strong lap. Elsa, at thirteen, is also smiling, but it's subdued and maybe a bit bored. Her parents though, are happy. Genuinely happy. As if there's no other place they want to be.

Their attention is gathered again by the screen as their father merely continues with the same heavy burden expression and voice.

_"__Elsa."_

She feels her sister's back straighten, the same reaction as hers earlier seizing the older girl.

Their father sighs, light brown eyes, falling to the floor between them and the camera. He breathes heavily, regret and defeat coating his voice. _"Elsa, I messed up," _he starts, shaking his head in disappointment. _"There isn't a day that passes that I don't think about that night…and all the things I could've done differently." _His gaze pierces through the camera, his morose countenance making him look years and years older. _"Now, don't misunderstand. I still meant every word I said. But…I guess the consequences of my decision didn't hit me until it was too late and all the repercussions were laid bare in front of me. _

_"__There's no doubt in my mind that there's only one thing that's important now, and you and I will wholeheartedly agree on it. If the worst case scenario happens before Helene and I have the chance to fix this, I want you to take care of Anna. From the start, this wasn't fair for her and I'm not guilt tripping you into anything. You love her, as we both love you. Take care of her. As the new head of the family, this is your burden, as it was ours. Stop running away and face those fears of yours head on. I said it before, and I still believe it. Anna will understand. Just explain it. Time will do the rest._

_"__More than anything, I wish that your mother and I will record over this in the near future. I don't want you to have to face all the problems alone without me or Helene there to support you." _He leans back into the sofa, back haunched and looking too forlorn for words._ "Elsa, we love you. We always have. You're our daughter no matter what. Nothing will change that. Anna, baby, we love you too. Just as much. You probably won't think so in a moment, but we do. And again, we're sorry. We're sorry it didn't work out as we planned…_

_"__If this video comes to your possession that means you'll only have each other. Please think about that. And thread carefully. I believe all of us just want one thing back…Our family. Whether it's us four…or just you two…family's the most important thing."_

It looks like he means to say more, but he only swipes a hand over his mustache and chin. Their mother, mirroring his grave expression to a tee, merely gives his shoulder a brief consoling rub before motioning him to turn off the camera. Getting up, he gives one more forlorn look at the screen, the sound system picking up a heavy sigh before the screen turns solid blue.

More than a little confused and already beyond curious, Anna only looks at the screen for just another moment before getting up from the sofa, long purposeful steps leading her to the painting. She doesn't look at her sister. She just wants to solve the riddle. Five years…and the answer was here all along, just fifty feet away.

She grips the side of the painting and pulls, the heavy frame budging only a little.

"Anna," she hears Elsa call from behind her making her abruptly turn around.

"Help me pull this out."

It's not a request. She turns back to the painting and takes one side. Her patience is gone but nevertheless she waits wordlessly as the older girl takes slow, unwilling steps towards her. Once Elsa has a firm grip on the other side of the picture frame, they both lift it, the square canvas coming off easily. Behind it, the safe and all its mysteries shined dully at them.

"Michael!"

She yells the lawyer's name just as soon as they place the painting down, her body already halfway through the room before the door opens and the tall man is looking at her with a bewildered expression.

She puts her hand forward, palm up. "Keys."

He seems to collect himself and begins patting his clothes until he feels a certain bump in his blazer pocket. He gives her a smaller yellow envelope, again sealed and unopened, and she tears it without preamble, the small black key jingling quietly as it lands on her hand.

She gives him a hard, unapologetic look. "We're done, right?"

He's taken aback by her sudden demeanor but nods regardless. "Yes. Are there any questions you need answered—

"No. Take all your things. Leave the papers and the USB. Thank you. That'll be all."

He looks lost for a minute, glancing behind her at Elsa who remains eerily quiet. Another moment passes and he nods, silently gathers his belongings and leaves, but not without another goodbye.

The door closing prompts Anna into action, index finger and thumb gripping the small key so firmly that she knows it'll leave an indentation in her skin. This doesn't cross her mind though. Only one thing does: they knew. Her parents knew the reason for the last five years…and _kept it from her._

The key slips in smoothly, the sound echoing through the quiet room. A twist and pull later, and the heavy door swings open with an ominous creak, the first thing she sees making her wish she didn't open the safe to begin with.

AN: Insert obligatory cliff chappy. Because it's not a fic until you get a cliffhanger :P Obligatory blowup chapter next chappy, please look forward to it.

Supremacy of Chaos: This plot bunny started because of that scene, tbh. I wanted to create a scene in which the dad isn't a crazy psycho hell bent on dividing the two sisters (even though if I were put in the same situation I would react pretty much that way).

IronShounen: I like to throw in snippets of funny in there to make up for the drama. I hope to get a couple chuckles in per chappy even though the overall feel is depressing haha.

Mati08: Your english is fine :) To date, Elsa and Alexander's scene is probably…my favorite? I'm not sure why I have that question mark there…I do like it…but maybe I shouldn't favor some scenes from others…It was easy to write more than anything. I also like HungoverAnna…Some scenes just have a way of flowing better than others. Speaking of Anna, her POV is surprisingly simple to write. I'm going to enjoy shaping her haha.

FlirtingIsAnArt: I'm sorry I don't speak French, but from my understanding of my one trimester of 8th grade French class, yes…I'll continue…it?

vlad: Haha, dude, you're preaching to the choir here. Me acting like this with my siblings? Eff no…As for the love vs lust thing…I understand the premise of lust. It probably makes more sense than this stretch of stuff I'm trying to write out. I guess I just want…more? More than shacking up and romping regardless of if the parents are out of the equation or not, more than tear-her-clothes-off-we're-both-hot-we-want-this…I guess I want substance. Or…I can't write smut and I just don't want to delve into that…regardless of the reason, the whole "love" thing is here to stay.

Souledad: I'm glad you stumbled upon my corner of this huge fandom too :D Hmm, would it be bad to say I'm not sure where I'm taking this story? Let's hope it's somewhere positive haha.

Tripower: I hope to never lose my touch with writing (even though I doubt there's really any touch in it to begin with), and that feeling…the my-heart-is-bleeding-please-stop-putting-yourself-in-this-unnecessary-pain feeling…yeah, I have a love-hate relationship with that feeling.

Volchise: Elsa thinks ahead like that!

ChillxZee: :( I'm sorry you cried. Don't cry! But as they say, it'll only get worse before it can get better? Is…that how they say it? Whatever, that's how it is in my story.

TuffyYue: Glad to have kept your attention.

Icy-Windbreeze: Nope, next chapter is the revelation :) This was the hangover, kind of nothing really happens chapter…gosh…what even happens in this chapter? -.-


	5. Chapter Five: Knowledge is

Chapter 5: Knowledge is...

_"__Mom!"_

_Her mother turns just as the door to the waiting car opens, Anna bounding down the stone steps and looking like she just got out bed. _

_"__Anna, did you forget that it's Saturday?"_

_The redhead rolls her eyes at the jibe and strides until they're merely a couple feet apart. Her hair is a fiery bird's nest and she knows her whole getup of pajama top and bottom rabbits looks ridiculous especially for someone who's now in high school, but she doesn't care. The mission is first and foremost. _

_"__I need Elsa's address." _

_The female elder Andersen looks taken aback for a moment before she composes herself and looks at her patient driver who just smiles at her. She glances back at her daughter, sees the impatience around the expectant face and sighs inwardly. _

_It begins…_

_"__I…don't have it memorized, dear. Do you want to send something to her?" _

_Anna nods, her expression turning downtrodden as she looks at the ground between them. Her voice is small and meek when she begins speaking. "I've sent her texts daily and she's not answering back. I thought maybe go the old fashioned route and write an e-mail. That was maybe a week ago. Now I'm really going the super old fashioned route and writing a letter…I mean, I know she must be busy…but I wish she'd at least say hi." She looks back up, the wounded look contrasting against such a splendid face. "Did…did she say something to you? Nothing happened to her or anything, right?"_

_Helene reaches towards her cheek, strong fingers caressing her skin before combing back her unruly hair. There's something in her expression that Anna can't decipher. She seems…withdrawn? Closed off? Secretive? What is that? _

_"__She called when her plane landed," her mother says with a strained smile. "She's all moved in and is being kept busy. It looks like she can begin in spring quarter like she planned, considering the early graduation, and she's trying to get the paperwork filled out and everything. But as I said, I don't have her address memorized. If you want, I can send the letter for you." _

_Anna's eyes light up in happiness, a quick, "Give me a moment!" coming out of her before she beelines it back to the house. _

_In record time she's back, a plain white envelope clutched in her hands before it's given to her mother. Helene takes it from her with a tight lipped smile, coming down and kissing her in the cheek before the older woman turns back towards the car. _

_"__Have a good day at work!" Anna calls, arms waving happily at her. _

_She's given another rigid smile before the door closes, and although the tint of the windows makes it hard for her to see her mother, the redhead knows those tan eyes are looking at her, and an anxiety from seeing that strained countenance seizes her, clutches her throat and makes it difficult to breathe…and she's not quite sure why. _

O—O

_Now it makes sense…_

The first thing Anna sees when she opens the safe is a bundle of letters, _Elsa Andersen_ written in her familiar writing on the very top one. She knows it's the most recent one because it's light blue in color. She always picked that specific shade for all of Elsa's birthday cards.

There's a hollowness in her heart that's spreading like wildfire through the rest of her numbing system, the only question reverberating in dull, repetitive waves…why, why, _why_?!

Why did they keep her letters? Why was it so difficult to send them to Elsa like she asked? Why—

Her train of thought stops, her eyes finding another item in the safe that sends a cold vice like grip to her stomach. She grabs it, her hand enveloping a cold plastic case and her shaky thumb pressing the home button. The screen comes to life, the home screen of a selfie she and Elsa took when the older girl first got the phone feeling like a kick to her midsection. It's an old picture…from their high school cafeteria. Both of them are wearing Weselton Private High School's uniform: maroon sweater vest, long sleeve white collared dress shirt, and different colored ties signifying their grades: buttery yellow for Anna and slate gray for Elsa. Their smiles are genuinely happy, cheek upon cheek so that they can fit properly in the picture.

The younger girl stares at it for a long moment, nostalgia, bitterness, and anger clashing in a frenzied war in her mind. Her thumb swipes the screen, the password protection number pad stopping her momentarily.

It's only now that she looks up.

Elsa's gaze is locked on the floor between them, her entire body rigid, her expression stony, but her eyes tell a different story. Erratic darting, _everywhere _but at Anna's direction. The redhead contains the sudden, scary urge to slap her just to get her attention, but her hands ball into frustrated fists regardless.

Her steely voice cuts the thick suffocating air around them. "Your pass."

Light blue eyes stare at her, anxiety, sadness, fear, stubbornness—a plethora of emotions splaying, repeating as if on a merry-go-round. Anna sees the unspoken plea there: _please don't do this_. Dismisses it.

She's so tired of being kept in the dark.

"Give me your pass." Even in her own ears her voice is trembling, and she's not quite sure if it's from anger, depression, or stress overload. The probability of a combination of all three feels just about right.

The older girl looks away, countenance defeated. Another pregnant pause before, "0 7 2 3," is replied quietly, white teeth clamping on a bottom lip, and a hard swallow following.

Anna doesn't know whether she wants to laugh or cry…

She looks back down at the phone, punches in her birthday, and is rewarded with her last text: _When is your plane coming down? I'm coming with Kai to pick you up. Please call me as soon as you get this._

She turns it off, dismounting anger pitching it back in the bowels of the safe where it clangs loudly from recoil.

"Why?!"

Elsa flinches at the hardness in her voice, but she stopped caring minutes ago.

_Fuck not asking._

"Elsa," she calls, voice barely kept in check and jaw painfully clenched. "My patience flew out, maybe ten minutes ago. I want an explanation. I _need _one. YOU OWE ME ONE!"

The last sentence, yelled without a care as to who can hear, reverberates around the silent office and her sister flinches again, but in the end still doesn't look at her. Stiff fingers itch to throw everything within arm's reach everywhere. She wants to scream until her voice gives out and she can't utter a single word anymore. More than anything, she wants to cry…because a lie this magnitude—this form of deceit…

Did they ever even love her?

The thought bounces in her head, turns her legs weak and leaves her heart sputtering.

In all her years, she's never been one for anger. Sure, just like anyone she has some investment in that emotion, even punched someone in the nose before out of sheer frustrated reflex. But for some reason, sadness has always just been, not easier per se…moreover stronger.

It seizes her now…this helplessness, and she finds she doesn't have the strength to keep herself up. She doesn't care that it looks dramatic, or that the fall on her knees will leave a serious bruise tomorrow. She just wants to turn into a ball, curl up, and expel all of her emotions in the form of a good, hearty cry. It won't solve anything. It won't even answer a single question…

Although she doesn't really need help for the one in the forefront of her mind.

How can _anyone_ love her? She's the poster child for a failure of a daughter. She was never very good at school unlike Elsa who not only graduated early, but was valedictorian and received the highest honors of anyone who ever attended Weselton High. While she's wiling away their parents' money with something laughable like an art degree, her older sister was becoming an architect. And to top it off…of course she'd be the one with emotional problems—the one who would need to take Prozac 20mg, one capsule, twice a day, and ensure a once a week visit to her therapist.

Who could love that?

_I should've died instead of mom and dad._

"Anna?"

She doesn't really hear her sister. All the anger from earlier has dissipated. What replaces it, is even worse. The helplessness clutches at her heart, tugs, pulls, squeezes, and even though it hurts, she knows no one's there to care whether or not she cries out loud. The steady streams are coming out of her eyes, her stare locked at a personal demon no one else can see.

Her gaze only breaks when she feels cool hands rubbing her cheeks, fingertips catching, wiping away salty tears, light blue eyes darting over hers in consternation. She notices her sister's in the same position as she is: kneeling on the cold hardwood floors, her countenance apologetic, worrisome, and guilt-ridden and her strong hands cupping wet cheeks.

"Would it have been better if _I _left instead of you?"

Her voice is weak, merely a whisper, but her sister catches it, and she finds a glimmer of hope when the other girl's eyes widen in shock before her head shakes vigorously in answer.

"Anna, it's not you."

She wants to laugh in disbelief but doesn't have the energy for it anymore. "It's a bit hard to believe that when all of my memory of the past five years support it."

Elsa shakes her head again, her grip on her face strengthening. "It may not look it, but all of this was done for your own good."

She really does laugh this time, the sound of it sardonic and sarcastic even in her own ears. "What in God's name _is_ it?" she asks in exasperation, her head coming up with the worst of the worst case scenarios. Then her heart stutters, because truly, the very worst of the worst case comes unbidden and the picture it plants in her head is not one she would be able to accept. "Are you dying?"

Her abandonment issues come back, grips her tightly and makes it hard to breathe. Her lungs burn at the mere prospect. Alone, forever. No mom. No dad. No Elsa…

The question obviously takes the blonde aback, the pregnant pause before her answer stretching arduously for the younger girl.

"No, no Anna I'm certainly not dying."

The heavy sigh of relief that comes out of her lungs would be comical, if the whole situation wasn't already fucking up her mind.

They take a moment to fill the void with uncomfortable silence, Elsa wiping her tears off of her face as she keeps a firm grip over the other girl's blouse. When too much time has passed, she reaches up and grabs her sister's hand with her own, clutching them and placing them in between their kneeling positions.

"Please tell me," she croaks, hating her voice for cracking and tightens her vice-like grip on the blonde's hands. "Being kept in the dark, is quite possibly the worst thing in the world…Please, just…tell me. Isn't the past five years enough punishment?"

The older girl's hands grasp hers, her head shaking vehemently. "It wasn't—It wasn't to punish you Anna."

"Well, regardless of what it was and wasn't supposed to do, that's what it feels like." The smaller girl groans, the constant lancing in her temples and her chest dancing in a painful steady rhythm. "So what was it supposed to do?"

Light blue eyes flit away, towards the painting still leaning onto the wall.

"Protect you."

The answer confounds her. "Protect me? From what?"

"From me."

"I don't _need_ protection from you. You're my sister. You're usually the one protecting _me._"

"Think about everything that you're saying as I explain this to you…"

The blonde's voice is steady, but in the undercurrents is distress—an unexplained uneasiness. It takes her attention and holds it as raptly as the focused blue eyes drilling a hole in her own.

"I…" The older girl stops, stutter breaths claiming her lungs. She gulps, once, bites a bottom lip, shuts her eyes and proclaims as if in pain, "I love you."

Not what she was expecting, but… "I love you too."

"_No_, Anna…I _love_ you," Elsa says again, the franticness dripping in her voice and in her now open eyes. "Not in the way you love me. Not in the way mom and dad loves us. I love you in the…morally wrong, disturbing, looks-down-upon-by-society…way."

It takes a moment for her to understand, but…of all things…still not what she was expecting.

Her sister retreats, hands pulling away from her own as the older girl stands back, possibly to give her room just in case, or maybe just so the blonde can start pacing, because that's what she begins to do not a moment sooner.

"I-I started feeling differently in high school," she continues, her words as frenetic as her pacing. "I tried to fight it and it didn't work. I tried ignoring it, and that was even worse. I figured out that the only way…the only viable solution to attempt to stop feeling this way was to move…as far away as possible. Cut off all contact…"

She stops pacing, turns to the younger girl, guilt and shame so pronounced in her features it makes Anna want to stand up to console her.

Instead, she asks while steadily gazing up at her from the floor, "Did it work?"

Elsa's jaw clamps, her brows notching together in distress. A helpless smile takes over her beautiful features; the look of perfect tragedy. "No…" Light blue eyes lock with Anna's unflinchingly. "No, it did not."

The redhead gets up, but stays rooted to her spot. "And mom and dad knew about this…obviously."

"I told dad that the same night I came out to him," her sister says with a deep sigh, her body crumpling in one of the chairs in front of the desk and her hands coming up to rub her face tiredly. "It wasn't a coming out in hindsight. Moreover an 'I feel this way about Anna and this is what I propose' setup. I didn't even really tell him my preference…unless it was stating out right that it was you.

"I planned it all so that he wouldn't have time to think it through—that to agree with me was the only viable option. You have to understand that it's not mom and dad's fault. Please don't be angry with them for any of this. I asked them to intercept letters, to keep my phone, to not tell you my address, so that I won't have any temptations." Elsa's hands drop from her face to her side limply, her back straightening on the hard chair, and her dull, apologetic gaze towards the younger girl. "I wasn't going to see you anymore…ever. That was the plan. Cut off all contact permanently. Not five years—not ten. If…if this didn't happen to mom and dad, I would never have come back. I would've stayed away."

And that dreary prospect—of never seeing her sister again, regardless of effort or how much Anna would wish it, drives a stake through her chest. The stinging in her eyes recommences, blurring everything in her line of sight and the lump in her throat is lodged so deeply that it hurt to breathe. "And what about me?" her small voice asks, barely hearable even to herself. "Did you ever think about what that decision could do to me?"

"Anna—

"I lost my best friend Elsa!" Frustrated tears cascade again through her face and she wipes it carelessly with the back of her palm, narrowed, disbelieving eyes trained on the older girl's still apologetic countenance. Her hands ball into fists in hopes of alleviating the shaking, but it strikes her entire body—a live wire of messy emotions. "You can't—you can't just do that! Make those kinds of decisions and think that they won't have any consequences! You're my sister! You think I could just _forget_ you? There hasn't been a _day_ that I haven't stopped thinking about you. And you know what all those thoughts are? What_ I_ did wrong. What _I_ did to push you away! Because I _knew…_I knew you were still talking to mom and dad, but refused to talk to _me._ And I wanted to know so badly what I did wrong so I could apologize just to be able to speak with you again.

"If you would've just given me the time of day I would've gotten down on both knees and begged you to come back. I would've apologized for doing something I didn't even know I was doing. Because having you back with you hating me was a better alternative than living another day in which I felt like an empty shell just trying to get by. That was my last five years in a nutshell. A broken thing trying to reconnect with people—each one that has a likeness to her sister and what life was like prior and just wanting that feeling back. And of course—_of course_ no one was good enough. Because I wasn't trying to look for someone like you, I was just trying to find _you._ No one else could come close. There would always be something lacking and…the magic would be broken. I would need something inherently you all over again…"

Elsa stands from her spot, warring emotions flashing over her visage. She looks like she doesn't know whether she should stay in her spot or go to her…if she should keep quiet or go down on her knees and beg—beg with all her heart for the younger girl's forgiveness.

Anna doesn't want that. She doesn't want an apology. She's over that phase. She just…she just wants…

"Please get over here and hug me."

Not a second more and the taller girl's body is enveloping her, strong arms around her shoulders, hands clutching at the back of her shirt and a thousand sorries rushing in cascading streams to her ears. Anna returns the hug, vice-grip tight, her forehead crashing on a firm, secure shoulder, and from sheer frustration, bangs her head on it, once, twice, three times before clutching her just as desperately.

"You _jerk_…"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Anna."

"Why couldn't you just _talk_ to me?"

Her tears are making everything wet, but she doesn't care. Neither does Elsa. They're not sure how long they stand there, one grunting out frustrations and the other softly placating but they take their time at it.

When the anger finally melts away, when the tears stop their course, when a semblance of normalcy returns, they're still standing close together with less than a foot separating them, Anna's hands bunched at the front of the older girl's blouse and the latter's hands wiping tear tracks off of a messy freckled face. The redhead notices that she does this a lot, but doesn't comment on it. She merely enjoys the affectionate touch and leans to it, gathering her sister's attention.

"Please don't make us go through that again." She can't take the yearning out of her voice, and she knows it makes her sound weak, but again, she finds that she no longer cares. "Talk to me, okay Elsa? Don't keep me in the dark. Don't keep life changing decisions from me and don't make them either. I don't care if you think it's for my own good."

The older girl merely nods, a sigh expelling from her lips. "I'm sorry…"

A helpless smile quirks up Anna's face. She didn't think it was possible tonight, but taking everything out and leaving it in the open has made her feel lighter than she has in years. Really, only one thing is left now and open for discussion…and she's not quite sure how to deal with it.

Of all the things it could've been…

And then a thought comes unbidden, fast and strong. It seizes her, gives her ideas, options, choices…because if she _were_ to accept her sister's feelings, the older girl would have to stay—

"Don't."

Anna frowns, the train derailing. "I swear, even since this morning you've been reading my mind. _Did_ you turn psychic overnight?"

Elsa laughs, rolling her eyes in exasperation and merely palms her shoulders with steady hands. "No…but I know how to read you face," she says seriously. "You wear your heart out for people to see, and I can read it all too clearly. And I'm telling you, you're going about it wrongly."

"I don't want you to leave."

"I won't."

"Even if I don't have any idea on how to feel about this?"

"Push me away or pull me in. I deserve whatever you decide. But I don't want you making reckless decisions tonight."

"You'd know about reckless decisions, you're queen of them."

Elsa pinches her cheek at the mild insult, but her smile betrays the reprimand. "I don't expect anything in return Anna." Light blues gaze at hers seriously. "This is enough. Not being disgusted, being open, letting me still…be in the same room with you—to be able to touch you without—

"Why would I ever feel that way about you?"

"It's abnormal."

"A lot of things are abnormal!"

"This one tops the cake for it."

"Elsa, even after finding out, my feelings for you have stayed the same. I still adore you. I still look up to you. You're still…Elsa!"

"Your older sister."

"You make that seem like a derogatory word…"

"With my implied feelings, that's exactly what it becomes."

"You _really_ need to stop feeling that way. Even then, you said it right? It's my decision. You really think after the last five years that I'd still push you away?"

"I was kind of hoping that—

"Elsa sometimes you make me want to punch you in the face."

The older girl smirks. "You still have a mean right hook?"

"Yes, so watch out," Anna hmphs.

The older girl's smile softens, visage inquiring. "What do you want?"

"I want you in my life," the redhead says so quickly that the thought didn't even seem to register before she had already expelled it. "I want you to stop questioning your role there. I want…to be able to talk to you whenever I want and be generally around you. As of now, nothing more than that, and definitely nothing less."

"Then it's done."

"Just like that?"

Elsa nods, a worried frown gracing her features. "Just like that. I don't have a say in this matter, Anna."

"You _do._"

She shakes her head. "It's been my say for the past five years and it's gotten us nowhere but a ditch. A huge and miserable one at that. You're absolutely right. I should've spoken to you instead of holing myself up in the other side of the country. I'm obviously not good at life changing decisions. Furthermore, my feelings shouldn't influence yours. Don't jump into anything just because you think it'll make me want to stay. You'll do yourself a disservice, and you're not doing me any favors either. I don't want you to think you have to answer me. You never have to. As I said…I'm already pretty happy you're not running away. This is sufficient for me."

Anna closes the distance, what's little of it, between them and encompasses her arms around Elsa's waist. She breathes in the familiar winter mint scent, loves it, tightens her hold, wishes that this moment'll never end. The older girl's fingers card through her hair, a small kiss placed daintily on her temple.

"Can I ask for just one thing?"

Her sister's tone feels like an ice dropping in the pit of her stomach and it briefly shatters the protective safety bubble around them. She pulls back a little, light blue eyes boring down at her and what she sees there only heightens her trepidation.

"Don't misconstrue my actions." The older girl looks pained as she says it. "I…I don't do them because of my feelings. I do them because I genuinely love you. Not in my convoluted way, but—

"I understand."

She hugs the taller girl again, tighter, wanting to rid her mind of her sister's expression. The guilt…the self-deprecation so easily seen in her eyes. Anna wants nothing more than to quell it—to tell her that there isn't anything wrong with feeling that way. But she knows…there's nothing she can say that can be used to assuage her sister's guilt over a matter that she has no control over. If Elsa was able to shut it off a long time ago, they wouldn't be in this predicament. Even so, she still can't find anything wrong with it. Just that…

Sisters.

It's a brand. A taboo topic. As the older girl says, certainly looked down upon. In Anna's mindset, why can't it be just another form of love? But she knows it's a sheltered thought; the outside world isn't as forgiving. In the end though, it makes no difference to her. She'll protect Elsa from it. She'll protect Elsa from herself.

O—O

She hasn't been here since the accident—avoided it like a plague, more like. But here she is now, standing in front of a closed door. She gulps, the action automatic as she encloses a cold hand around a just as cold knob. A part of her wants to twist it. A part of her wishes she'll see something else upon the swinging of a heavy oaken door. But she's not five anymore, and certainly too jaded from the goings on of the last few days to expect anything less.

The door swings, creaks ominously. Darkness greets her, but more than what she sees, more than any of her other senses, the smell is the most pronounced. She bets every child can place this scent. It's not a perfume, cologne, or anything manufactured. It's the smell of protection, warmth, familiarity—all things associated with parents and their bedrooms. It's the smell she cocoons herself in when her world feels like it's falling. It's the tangy mixture of her father's aftershave and her mother's combination of nightly ablutions. It's home. Nothing else has a closer association than this bedroom and what it smells like than the word home.

The block in her throat is back, heavier and deeper at every step she takes. She doesn't turn on the lights, merely lets the brightness of the hallway seep into the dark crevices of the room showing the silhouette of a four poster bed, a vanity, a door to a walk-in closet, another door to the master bathroom, personal items and the like going through her head, catching her attention minimally and nothing assimilating.

She walks until she's beside the four poster, hand grasping at the carved wooden frame, fingers rubbing thoughtlessly over the smooth finish. She breathes in, closes her eyes, and it's impossible to not feel them. They're everywhere here. It's so easy to see her father laying casually in the right side (his side of the bed) with a folded newspaper in hand because he hates technology and still buys printed paper at any given opportunity. He'd be wearing matching striped pajamas, brows notched in concentration at the crumpled paper and one hand scratching his sideburns thoughtlessly. Just as easily would be her mother next to him, on her phone or a tablet, the complete opposite to the technophobe in the room, going over schedule meetings, dates, data reports, anything and everything under her total control. She'd be donned in a silky nightdress, comfortable but still elegant in the way she wore it with her long hair down. This scene, in which both of them are in the same bed is a rare spectacle in and of itself. Her mom was usually out of town and although her dad was home most nights, sometimes he'd stay in the office in favor of an empty bedroom.

_"__Anna, good to see you."_

Her grip on the wooden frame tightens, eyes shutting even harder as she hopes reality and all its bleakness doesn't ruin this one small fantasy in her mind.

Alexander would put the newspaper down on his bedside table and her mother would do the same to her tablet or phone, two pairs of eyes—warm, safe, loving—looking at her expectantly.

_"__I'm not sure what to do…"_

It wouldn't be her first time saying it here in front of them, and just like the time before they would share a look between each other before giving her their undivided attention, her father sitting straighter against the headrest and Helene folding her hands atop a blanketed lap.

_"__I know why it had be this way…"_ she'd say, looking at both of their apologetic faces. For some reason she can see Elsa so much clearer when their expressions now matches the older girl's to such a tee only a half an hour or so back. _"But I wish everyone would've just…said something. It couldn't have been easy lying to me…everyday. I wish you didn't have to. I know it was to protect me. I understand the why. I just wish it didn't hurt this much even though no one ever meant it to."_

She'd see the guilt in their faces, their ages showing drastically, adding even more years.

_"__I don't know what to do," _she'd repeat._ "I'm not sure how to proceed."_

_"__What's wrong with taking it a day at a time?"_ Alexander would ask, giving a small forlorn smile. _"Do you not believe that she will stay?"_

She'd shake her head. _"I believe she will. Out of guilt or whatever else…even though I don't want her to feel this way. She will…regardless."_

_"__Anna," _Helene would speak this time, smile soft and apologetic. _"More than staying in the past, think of your future. We know it's a lot to take in, but take your time at it and more than anything, think of a future in which you'll be happy in. Can you answer that question yourself? What would make you happiest?"_

_"__Elsa looking at me without guilt…and me not feeling as if what she's doing now is owed."_

_"__You can't change how Elsa feels, but you can change your point of view," _Helene continues. _"I know a large part of you resents all of us for this. You don't want to face such an ugly side of yourself, but no one expects you to not be angry or sad or resentful. We knew you would be…which is why we wanted to do this as a family."_

_"__But we couldn't, and that's the harsh reality."_

Alexander would sigh, his gaze falling at the crumpled mess of blankets over them and a rough hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck. _"Anna, there's no easy solution to all of this. I know that's what you're looking for and I will be frank and say that it's not something that can be solved today, tonight, tomorrow, next month, or even next year. There's a lot of things to work on. Now, I may have said to Elsa that she's responsible for you and this family, but it's not something she can do by herself. Not without your cooperation. Even then, I know you wouldn't allow for it to just be her burden. Having each other is all you have left. Knowing this…what is the first and foremost important thing in your mind?"_

_"__Reconnection." _

_"__Then what's stopping you?"_

_"__Nothing. Maybe an old form of resentment I'm trying to get over. But it's not even…towards Elsa or you two…The situation I guess."_

_"__And as I said, no one's expecting you to get over it. I expect it to always be in the back of your mind, even though all of you wills it to leave. Right now, that's what you and Elsa have the most in common. You have resentment towards the situation. She has resentment towards herself—the situation is just the tip of the iceberg. She also has her feelings for you to deal with, the responsibility of being your older sister, school—she has a lot on her plate. So do you. Juggling all of this will be difficult. After finding out her feelings, will you let the weight of it all swallow her down?"_

_"__No. Never."_

_"__Then go to her. Say everything that you need or want to say, but remember to do it all in moderation. I can guarantee that Elsa isn't going anywhere. You know now. The decision to push her away is up to you—_

_"__I won't."_

He smiles, crows feet crinkling at the sides of light brown eyes. _"Go to her. Make sure she's not drowning her subconscious into an early grave. We all know how good she is at that."_

She smiles, eyes opening to an empty bed. In the silence she can hear her heart drum steadily in her ears, her fingers grasping the frame just a bit tighter. She breathes deeply, to ensure the stinging in the back of her lids to remain in place for one, and two, to take in that familial scent. She doesn't want to go, but she does. It's been an hour since dinner and a half an hour since she last saw her sister. The picture of her wallowing in her bedroom with all the lights turned off is an easy one to conjure and before she knows it, she's at the threshold of the master bedroom gripping on the doorknob once more.

She looks back, just one last time, a soft, "Thank you" whispering under her breath before she closes the door firmly, the sound echoing in the empty hallway.

O—O—O

_She knows. She knows and I'm still here. She knows and she didn't push me away. There was no disgust, no fear, none of the reactions I'd been expecting… She knows. _

The mantra repeats itself like a broken record, her mind taking her further than the dark ceiling her restless eyes have been gazing for what feels like hours.

There was no backlash. There was anger…but that had happened prior to her confession. More than anything, the helpless tear tracked face of her broken sister stays with her, remains the only thing she sees when she closes her eyes.

How could she have been so naive? How could she not have seen this scenario? Maybe the overly realistic (pessimistic) side of her refused to see it five years back? Hell, it's still not allowing her to believe it even now that she's _in_ the situation…It was just a too sweet picture. She had refused then to believe it. Only in her wildest dreams would Anna not shun her. In the even wilder ones, the other girl would reciprocate her feelings.

Elsa shakes her head outwardly, angry at herself for even going that route.

She turns restlessly at her side, bunched blankets kicked to the bottom of her bed and her stare passes to the adjacent wall instead, the small amount of light showing her the dark silhouette of a vanity and other miscellaneous items in the other side of the room. The night is hot and humid, sweaty skin sticking to any surface for a prolonged period and it only serves to frustrate her even more. She wonders briefly if the central AC is on. She'd need to speak with Kai about it tomorrow. Her legs battle restlessly with each other without a thought, her mind taking her again back to the study where the smell of paper, ink, and wood mingled too well with regret, helplessness, and guilt.

Five years ago, when she had been planning her escape (because she has to face it someday, that really is what it was— her dad's rarely wrong) there wasn't a bigger thought or obstacle than Anna and how she would be like after. A strong part of her wanted the smaller girl to need her. Need her to the point where she'd find a way to break through Elsa's well thought out, devious, evil-genius plan and succeed in…taking the damsel out of the locked tower…metaphorically speaking. It was a selfish thought and one that gave her a delirious sense of hope. A stronger part of her, one that's observed every nuance of her sister's personality, the one that spent roughly all of her life not just staring, but actually _looking_, _seeing_ beyond the red hair and the bright smile, over the quirky personality and easygoing attitude, she saw something…_something_ that made letting go…easier.

She doesn't think Anna can see it, but the redhead has a gravitational pull unlike anyone she's ever seen before. The three year difference had made it so that they never really interacted with each other in school until her senior year. Sure, they shared the same elementary school, but they rarely saw each other even then, not counting the ride to and from said building. So when Anna had turned into a freshman and her a senior and they had the pure luck of having lunch period together, the blonde was finally able to see it.

It was kind of glorious…

The lost girl standing at the foot of the cafeteria lasted just that one day. The next day after that, Anna already had friends joining their table. By the end of the week, they had multiplied in _drones_. Elsa never really cared for popularity, even though high school felt like one big, ridiculous contest for it. But here was her sister, surrounded by so much by people that just wanted to _be_ with her. At first, it made the older girl panicky in a way where it looked kind of possessive. She would gather Anna's attention at seemingly random times, sometimes not caring if she was in an animated conversation with a cross country teammate and especially when she was speaking to a boy. The latter times were not random insomuch as purposefully, but then of course she hadn't known the other girl's preference then or else she would've just banished everyone (her own classmates included) from the table and just keep a protective arm around her sister and a three foot stick on the other to keep everyone else away.

But it's this one thing: Anna's inadvertent gravitational pull that made the older girl's decision easier. By the nearing of the end of her short year (she had accumulated enough credits and had finished her senior project early), the redhead had surrounded herself with so many people, it was easy to succumb to the thoughts that she would be just fine without the blonde's continued presence.

There would always be someone there. There's no way that Anna could be lonely or starved for attention when all of these people are, not only giving it to her, but some force-feeding it, needing it _from_ her. She was the sun and everyone else was just stuck in her gravitational pull. It didn't matter if they wanted it or not—it was just fact.

The sun wouldn't miss a satellite when surrounded by pretty planets.

The break off was easy because of this mindset. Yes, Anna would miss her, but not for long. She would be a thought in the recess of the younger girl's mind in the middle of the night when sleep isn't forthcoming and she remembers that, hey, she has a sister in the other side of the country and she's probably doing fine, and it doesn't matter that she hasn't visited or called or contacted her in forever—

She throws her pillow to the other side of the room from the surmounting self-induced frustration, the object cluttering with some items in her vanity and creating a too large ruckus of thuds, crashes, and drops, the noise resounding in her ears multiplied by impending silence.

Her door opens less than a second after, the bright light of the hallway illuminating Anna's confused face. It forces Elsa to sit up from her bed looking as if she got caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.

"Are…are you alright?"

"Yes," the blonde responds just a bit too tightly. "This…heat…is bothering me."

Green-blue eyes travel slowly from her to the other side of the room where the pillow, still moving from whatever trauma it was forced in, slides, from the edge of the vanity and towards the floor, dragging with it more items and sending the still night air into a second round of cacophony, miscellaneous items…meet hardwood floor, hardwood floor…miscellaneous items.

The silence that follows it is comically inducing, her sister's smirk turning to an exasperated grin, bright and noticeable.

"And your pillow deserved to have the brunt of the punishment for your discomfort…of course."

Elsa sighs, just as Anna's sweet giggle reaches her. She can't help, but smile at the sound—the exact opposite of the picture of her sister gracing her mind since they had left the study.

_"__A broken thing trying to reconnect with people…"_

She swallows the discomfort down her throat, wills for the guilt to leave her face because she knows she's worn it enough today by now that Anna could spot it a mile away, semi-darkness notwithstanding.

"Of course…" she replies, but the depth, the tenor in her voice gives her away.

The smaller girl looks at her momentarily before crossing the room, first to the pillow where she picks it off of the floor and fluffs it, then towards the blonde, crushing, hugging the pillow against her body on the way and dropping her chin on it, turquoise eyes darting at her in silence as soon as she reaches the side of the bed. It makes Elsa feel naked and vulnerable, but that thought doesn't make her shield herself or look away. If this is a form of punishment for her she'll take it. She'll take everything without a word or complaint. She owes Anna this much.

She owes her so much more…

"I'm going to sleep in here tonight."

Her mind briefly, unnecessarily points out that it wasn't a question.

_She knows. She knows and she's still doing this…_

Elsa can only nod and scoot further towards the wall to give the younger girl her own space. It's not very hard with such a big bed, but she makes it a point to go all the way to the wall, just in case.

"Elsa, what the hell are you doing?"

She might've scooted too far…

When the blonde looks back, a good three to four feet of space separates them.

"Giving you room," she answers, receiving a conspicuous eye roll.

"Did I get _that_ fat to require _this_ much space since…two days ago?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"You're the one being ridiculous! This much space seems like I'm a rabid animal who might bite you and you're giving yourself a head start!"

_If you can make that the other way around…_

The younger girl stops suddenly making Elsa's heart sputter just a bit, before a cheshire grin covers a youthful face. It makes her look kind of evil.

"Anna…"

"Was that a lewd face?"

"No!"

"It was! I said bite and you made a lewd face!"

"You were talking about you biting—it doesn't matter! No one's biting anyone!"

Anna laughs uncontrollably, landing with a thwump on the bed and giving her the same feral grin. "You're not very good with pillow talk."

Elsa can feel her blood pressure spiking, heat in the form of solid embarrassment creeping up from her neck to her forehead. "This isn't pillow talk!" she yells half-harassed.

"We're talking about _biting_—

"Then maybe we should do the common sense thing and _stop_."

"I'll stop when there's no safety biting perimeter around us. Get over here."

Elsa can only sigh in exasperation. "You're such a brat…" Before sliding over until there's less than a foot between them.

Anna's laughter rings and it just sounds so magical in its carefreeness that the blonde forgets the earlier slight.

She turns so that she's on her stomach, a side profile towards her still smirking mischievous little sister.

This girl is going to be her ruin…But she finds that she doesn't mind. Not at all.

Her hand is pulling outward before she can think it, steady fingers caressing a soft cheek and then silky burnish copper strands. She mildly observes the closing of blue-green eyes and for some reason it emboldens her—draws her closer, frees her fingers into burying themselves into smooth, wavy locks.

What is it about this action that she finds so fascinating? Maybe it's the mild sense of familiarity…It's not as if a stranger can just put their hands all over someone's hair without some sense of camaraderie. Even friends aren't that close…except for maybe the brief times when they're helping do each other's hairs and all that…friendly stuff…

But this. This has a semi-romantic sense to it. She's not doing anything, just sliding fingers through a warm scalp, carding over smooth silky strands, and loving the inherently Anna smells that evokes from the motions. But for all the times she's done this to her sister specifically, it's not something she makes a habit of doing with any of her past sexual partners. Although she doubts one night stands really have any form of comfort especially the awkwardness that is the next day. She's always glad when she wakes up and it's already an empty bed versus having to do the uncomfortable dance.

She has yet to master the art of asking for her bed partner's name after the deed is done without the entire thing turning awkward for either of them…

Her nails fall into the smooth back of the younger girl's neck, scratching slightly at fine baby hairs before sliding her hand back up until she has a handful of copper locks balled up in a fist.

Her thought derails into too pleasant realms—dives into darkened thoughts of fulfilling scenarios.

What would Anna look like under her in this dim lighting, writhing, squirming, glossy eyed and whimpering, as she fulfills every fantasy that comes to mind? What would she look like with her hair bunched up, intertwined and pulled by strong hands? Would she cry out in pleasure at the feel of strained roots even if it hurt just a little? Would she look petulant, yet submissive? Would there be a fight for dominance?

"Elsa?"

_Oh, god. _

She draws back as if struck, face burrowing inside her pillow.

_What the fuck Elsa…_

That eloquence that Anna put earlier…of wanting the earth to swallow her whole seizes her, and she demands it outright. It doesn't matter that her impure mind drove her in this corner in the first place—she wants to disappear.

"Elsa…will you—

The younger girl cuts herself off at the sound of a guttural growl, and then mildly panics when the blonde begins bashing her head against the pillow.

"What the fu…Elsa! Elsa will you—stop! Stop you dumb butt!"

Dumb butt…of all things.

But it does its job. It stops her from hitting herself on the pillow, regardless of how much it didn't hurt at all, and just makes her lay there. She wants to laugh. She wants to cry. She kind of wants to suffocate herself using the same fluffy pillow.

"Elsa, I can see that you're not breathing. If I have to perform CPR I will."

She turns her head abruptly, notes that Anna is now sitting down and crouching over her, hair falling in disarray on smooth shoulders, just waiting to be pulled—

She groans loudly, thoughts of earlier pervading her mind again and she finds she can't look at her sister properly again…maybe ever.

"You were having lewd thoughts again weren't you?"

"I want to die."

"I refuse to let you die."

"Just let me die…"

Anna laughs and before she knows it, the smaller girl is straddling her back, hands grasping her biceps and a small chin placed on her shoulder. She looks behind her, notes that the redhead's face is maybe five inches away, probably less, feels the soft, pliable curves melding with her own, and forgets to breathe.

Apparently breathing and talking doesn't come from the same place, because she has half the mind to grunt, "You're riling me up on purpose."

She feels the laughter before she hears it. "I used to do this a lot when we were kids…I thought you'd be used to it by now."

Elsa rolls her eyes, drops her head atop the pillow again and directs her gaze at the bed's headrest. Regardless of her mind's constant blaring warning, she can't help but feel that the weight on top of her feels right somehow. Because again, it's inherently Anna. She _has_ done that since they were children…

"And here you were the one worried that I would misconstrue your actions," the redhead says, and she can hear (doesn't have to see) the mirth laced in the soft voice. "Maybe you should've been worried about misconstruing mine."

The older girl looks back, sees the same mischievous glance that greets her and rolls her eyes before glancing up and away again. "You're such a brat."

"Yes, how can you love me, right?"

She hears the joke, but answers simply (because she's not gazing into the other's face and it makes it easier) and truthfully (because it's not as if she can control her feelings anyway), "Easily and effortlessly."

Her reply is met with silence at first, and it jumps her heart fast enough in worry and anxiety that she may have been too forthcoming, but then smooth arms curl around her shoulders—tightens. She feels the younger girl's body move up towards her and feels a smooth face rub against the back of her neck, shooting tingles of pleasure down her spine. She bites the sudden urge to groan.

"You do and say these things…"

Anna's voice is low and so close to her ears. Elsa's eyes shut automatically, teeth worrying her bottom lip, and she hopes (vainly because she can hear it herself) that her sister doesn't hear the wild thumping of her heart against her ribcage.

"How are you just able to do that?"

The hot breath in the back of her neck is creating goosebumps down her arm, and she bites down the urge to shiver. "Do what?"

And oh why can't her voice just not sound like that? Like she's eaten butterflies and they're attempting to fly out…It's certainly what her stomach feels like.

She clears her throat vainly.

Anna moves (thank god) so that they're back to back, the redhead facing the ceiling and causing strands to tickle any exposed skin it touches. "Like…well before tonight, I didn't understand it, but…I wonder if you know that you do it."

Her interest piqued, Elsa turns her head again only to be met with the back of the other girl's head. "Do what?"

A pregnant pause—she can almost hear her sister think. "Like…sound as if I'm the only person in the world that matters…"

"You're not wrong."

"But you have the voice down to a tee."

"Which means what?"

"It's the voice you use when you're in bed."

"Which makes sense because we _are_ on a bed."

"No, dummy. Your pillow talk voice."

"Are we really at this again? I'm sorry about my lewd face. I'll try keep it restrained."

"Tell me about your past partners."

The back and forth jibe stops from the random request, and for some reason, Elsa wants to see her sister's expression. She can read her better if—

"Stop thinking about it and tell me."

"What's there to say?"

"I don't know. I wanna find out something. Tell me about one of them."

"Anna, I think you have the wrong idea on what my personal life is like."

The younger girl huffs. "I can't know that until you respond to the query, _Elsa._"

"Brat…Fine, but there's nothing much to say. As I told you before, school keeps me pretty busy."

"And when you want to unwind?"

"I…" she trails off, splotches of heat splashing on her face.

In a matter of seconds, Anna's back to her original position, face impossibly close and scrutinizing. Elsa can count the smatter of freckles, squashes the urge to kiss every one of them, and rolls her eyes instead at the smirk she sees on the younger girl's face.

She locks with curious green-blues and asks in a deadpan tone, "What do _you_ do to unwind?"

"Try to find a hot number in stupid frat parties. Your turn. And don't make play the brat card by saying, 'I asked first' 'cuz I really _did_ ask first, jerk."

Ahh, it's finally sounding like a term of endearment…

Elsa licks suddenly dry lips and sighs outwardly. She really doesn't want to divulge this part of herself to her sister…For some reason, it makes her seem…less perfect to the other girl's eyes…and that feels like a crime somehow.

"I go to gay bars—not clubs. Nothing with overbearing music that you can't hear yourself think. I go to gay bars that have ambience, sit there, drink, and…for some reason it always attracts attention for the night," she says softly, eyes trained up at the ceiling and pointedly ignoring her sister's concentrated stare. "If I'm interested, we do more. If not, I go home alone for the night." She scrunches her face in thought, not realizing it until she says so out loud, "It's usually the latter…I only notice now as I'm saying it, but I guess I'm pretty picky."

She sees the redhead smirk from her peripherals but still refuses to look at her.

"And if you do go home with someone for the night…" the smaller girl prods, making her sigh outwardly. This produces a well placed pout. "Elsaaaa, _play_ with me."

She finally locks with amused turquoise eyes, her own expression one of mild disinterest. "Get off. My neck's hurting from looking at you in this position."

"Aww…" But Anna follows regardless, going back to her own side of the bed while Elsa repositions herself on her back, both hands behind her head to keep herself semi-propped and looks again at her sister who's staring at her intently from her side. Less than a foot separates them, but there's no contact which makes thinking, at the very least, easier.

"I think you have high expectations of what you want to hear and I'm going to crush it."

The redhead laughs, delicious and carefree. "Try me."

Alright…

Her gaze lands on the ceiling. It always seems easier to talk when those green-blue eyes aren't bearing down against her own in heavy concentration. "I've never had a long term relationship," she starts, her attention on a non-specific spot on the darkened ceiling. "It's not in my prerogative. I may have questioned my feelings for you in high school, but since then I've just come to accept it. People have shared my bed, but they don't share my life. I can't tell you how awkward the next day becomes when I wake up and they're still there. It's even worse when they've made themselves at home and I want to be left alone.

"More than anything I've come to terms that I'm not going to try to replace what you are to me for someone who pales in comparison. I don't mean to put you in an awkward position by saying so out loud, but…you're really high up there. With just being yourself you've trumped all other expectations I've had of any semblance of a normal relationship. I don't try to look for comparisons—it just happens. There's always something off…sometimes it's physical—hair isn't the right shade or wrong body type. Other times it's the personality. The thoughts, 'Anna wouldn't do that or Anna wouldn't say that' comes out… When that train of thought starts, it doesn't stop…and the illusion shatters immediately after. That usually constitutes the next day…during the awkward dance, when they're trying to see if there's more than a one night stand and I'm trying to remember their name."

Anna's eyes are wide by the time she finishes her words, but she remains unapologetic all the same. It kind of feels good to let it all out.

She shrugs. "You're the only person in the world that matters. It sounds like it because it's a fact. I don't care for what other people say, but yours? Your opinions? They matter. The things that you say and do keep me up at night, regardless of how small or unimportant they may be in someone else's perspective. I guess it shows from how I talk to you. It's not 'pillow talk voice' as you eloquently put it. And if it is, only _you_ have heard it."

The silence that greets her monologue is a bit unnerving, and when she looks down at the smaller girl, she's almost afraid of what she'll see there. Maybe she should learn to keep her mouth shut.

"Sorry if I've said too much," she ends up saying, but stops herself when she finally meets a morose face.

Her sister looks like she's about to cry…and, hell, she _did _say too much. She sighs inwardly at her stupid recklessness at being bold and too open, sits up straighter on the bed to begin the process of mollifying the other girl, but again, gets cut short when Anna just gives her a wide, yet still sad smile.

"Why are you so _perfect_?"

Not what she was expecting…

"I'm far from that—

"You _are_." Anna's now sitting up as well, legs crossed upon the other and looking at her with wide, sparkling eyes. "You…Did you know for the longest time that I thought you hated me?"

Words she's never wanted to hear comes tumbling out of a wonderful mouth…and she wants to smack herself because she's had an inkling since the start that the smaller girl would eventually feel this way. In hindsight, maybe she wanted it to end up this way so that there was a mild possibility that Anna would hate her back…she deserves this small bit after all. Why couldn't it occur to her earlier that Anna, _her _Anna, just isn't capable of such a negative feeling, especially towards her?

She sits back against the headboard and nods, the action as guilty as her reverting gaze.

"I mean, of course it was easy to think that way because I never got to see you or speak with you," the redhead continues, trying to elaborate. "But when you came back…there was this sudden onslaught of just…_you. _All your words and the things you do. How you talk to me, how you respond, just…even just how you _stand _next to me. It was all a direct contradiction. Simply put, there's no way you could hate me if you could look at me the way you do." The smaller girl grows quieter, gaze averting to the wrinkled sheets under them. "It was such a relief. I couldn't outright ask to invalidate the insecurity, but…just the way you looked at me…like nothing else mattered but my opinion and my words and what I thought…

"I realized too late that you were the one keeping me tethered. I only noticed it after you were gone."

Shaky hands run through messy copper strands, green-blue eyes darting away, towards the blanketing darkness outside her windows and sees something there that Elsa can't.

"You know that feeling of indefinite suspension?" Her voice cracks, lowers so substantially it's almost hard to hear. "Like, you're stuck there and there's absolutely nothing you can do to move—it's beyond your ability or power. Your only choice is to wait. So you do. You wait until something changes. You're alive, but you don't feel it. You can smile, but you know you're not happy. You're living, and yet everything passes by in a blur. That…that was what my sophomore year felt like. That was my year after you left."

Elsa attempts to swallow the block down her throat and fails. She wants to comfort her sister, but her arms feel like lead, the same weighty heaviness drowning her chest.

Anna trudges on, obvious difficulty in finding the right, pained words, but getting them out regardless. "Like the dumb teenager that I was, I thought doing stupid things would offset the suspension. I started hanging out with a bad crowd…did illegal things, smoke, drank, stole…god, I was so stupid…

"As I said before I was only able to wake up from it after hearing mom and dad's names from total strangers. More than that though was always a niggling thought in my own mind…What would Elsa say? How would she look at me after seeing me do these stupid things? How would she treat me? Would she act the same way? Would she treat me the same way? It doesn't matter. She would hate me…I hated me…" The smaller girl smiles self-deprecatingly. "So…the summer before junior year started, I decided to stop being stupid and asked mom and dad to find me a shrink."

Elsa is scrambling out of her position before anymore hurtful words could come out of the smaller girl's mouth, her arms coming around the other's bent form impossibly tight. The clog in her throat has bunched up into pinpricks in her eyes, and as impossible as it seems, fresh tears leak their way out in rivers. Anna's crying again, and so is she…and this day can't feel any longer than it already has.

In the end, who has she to blame but her own self? What a stupid, naive thought…that her decision would only affect her. What idiocy to assume that her reticence, her "self-less" action of holing herself in the other side of the country would solve anything—would help her own sister forget her. Instead…instead she created this.

She had always remembered Anna as bright unfiltered light. The little girl was a bundle of positive energy that could consume all negativity around her. And she did this effortlessly. She could make anyone smile just by saying a few choice words. The effort that she put in everything showed, and it was endearing and touching, and you would know that if she felt even an ounce of feeling for you, that she'd walk the earth…just to see you laugh. Something free—something readily given…she would do the impossible to achieve it, so long as it's done.

Elsa had snuffed that light. She had carelessly trudged over it with the weight of her own feelings. She had killed that innocence the day she decided to remove herself from the other's life.

All of this is her fault.

Perfect? No. Hardly. And if she is, it's only in one way…

The evidence is here in her arms. A sobbing mess, a fragile creature, all of her making. She's perfect at destroying lives. She destroyed her mom's. She destroyed her dad's. She destroyed her own. But all of that pales in comparison to what she's done to her sister.

She wonders how Anna can still say that with vehemence when it's the furthest from the truth. She wonders how the other girl isn't able to hate her for all that she's done. God knows, it's certainly easy for her to hate herself for everything she hasn't.

AN: How is it that Anna knows and there's _still_ angst? An author always finds a way! Thanks again to the follows, favorites, and reviews.

astrarisks: Look no further forward because it's here. Thank you for the comments. It's always in my prerogative to make a realistic fic considering the alternative is one we can't really relate to.

guest9: Glad you like the POV shifting because it's done again in this chapter. As for cliched fics, I honestly think I have one…right here. I haven't really read enough to know what is and isn't, but I know I'm toeing the line for it.

guest: (helps dislodge throat from heart) updated :D I hate cliffhangers too, but they are essential to a good story haha…or not…

guest: Getting screwed in the best possible way by a stranger? Hmm…seems dubious.

Icy-Windbreeze: You know you love cliffhangers. Everyone does!

Mislu: Not in this story, although honestly if she was it would solve so many things…I think Elsa would've been like, 'Eff it. Imma tap that, we're not related.'

ChillxZee: Maybe I should strive for making a fluff chapter that ensures no crying? I dunno if I can do it in this fic w/ you though. Tons of questions that I probably did not answer, I am good at disappointing like that. A dead body in a two by two by two feet safe seems impossible…unless the parents stuffed a dead baby in there.

dragon matt blue: Thank you. I shall try to keep writing!

IronShounen: I've had worse cliffhangers, you're overreacting! Cliffhangers in general aren't very nice though :( sorry

Volchise: It had to be done! I've never said I was a nice author.

actionpotential: I like reading tics in one sitting. I've had _days_ of just reading…and then when it's done it's akin to losing a close friend. Does anyone have one of those machines to resuscitate? I may need one for you.

moony98: OKAY! I SHALL!


	6. Chapter Six: Forward Progression

Chapter 6: Forward Progression

The room is the same as how they left it the night before. It wasn't haphazard to be exact, but she knew the maids had left it well enough alone. She walks in, leaves the door wide open, and stands at the foot of the office. The first thing that gathers her attention is the painting, not the wide open safe beckoning for her attention. She looks at the entirety of it, glossing over her father's easygoing smile, her mother's firm and warm look, her own neutral wish-I-was-outside-expression, and Anna's carefree one. The urge to go back in time seizes her, knows it's impossible, so she redirects her gaze to dark confines of the semi-open safe.

After her tell-all the night before, she and Anna couldn't stay in the office for a minute longer. It was a good decision—the unspoken one to leave the rest for the next morning. A good night's rest makes for better decisions the next day, or so people say. So, they had left everything, from the bundle of letters, to her old cellphone, to whatever other contents are in the safe. She hopes, maybe vainly, that today doesn't hold anymore surprises for either of them. More than for herself, she's afraid that just one more push might be all it could take for her sister to go over the edge and begin disowning herself because of the lies the blonde had started in the first place.

It would seem like a fitting ending though—one that she rightfully deserves. Now that her sister knows everything, it would make sense that she wouldn't want anything more to do with her…and yet…

"Stop daydreaming at the door and help me with this."

She turns around, notes the tray of heaping food that the redhead is lugging around and helps her carry it without further notice.

"We can eat in the dining area," she proposes, but follows the younger girl anyway, both of them making their way to the large desk and placing what will be breakfast atop its clean surface. She looks over at what has been prepared: hash, regular bacon, Canadian bacon, breakfast sausages, sunny side up eggs, oatmeal, four different packages of Greek yogurt, three kinds of dry cereal…A shuffle from behind her gathers her attention and there is Kai coming in with another tray, this time full of liquids: a jug of milk, tea, coffee, orange juice, apple juice, regular water, Smart water, coconut juice? Not wanting to sound ungrateful, but a bit confused, she asks unsurely, "Is…everyone joining us for breakfast?" She wouldn't mind…but it's a bit different from what she's used to.

Anna chuckles sheepishly, the sound and her hesitant expression endearing to the older girl. "I…didn't know what you wanted…so I thought maybe a bit of everything?"

The thought warms her far more than she's willing to show now that they're not quite alone.

"Good morning Miss Elsa."

She nods at Kai as he places the food tray next to the other one, making quick work of distributing the food and liquids across the desk so that everything is within reach for both of them.

"Good morning Kai," she greets, smiling at him before sitting down on the straight back chair to the left. It would seem she has grown a bit fond of this chair, considering all the times she's used it in the past and how things just seem to work out heavily on her favor when on it. "Would you like to join us for breakfast? Something tells me we have enough."

He chuckles and gives a quick, friendly wink to her younger sister. "I've eaten, but thank you for the invitation Miss Elsa. I was quite surprised to see Miss Anna in the kitchen this morning, but more than that was her insistence on this small feast for your benefit."

She tries to fight the blush that's making its way from her neck to her cheeks, her wobbly smile flickering. When she has enough courage to look at the younger girl, she's somewhat happy to see the same blush riding on freckles, green-blue eyes darting at the food on the table and resolutely ignoring hers.

"I wouldn't blame her considering your lack of appetite during last night's dinner," Kai continues, seemingly oblivious to the silence from the two sisters. "So make sure her effort is well worth it, alright?"

"Kaiiii," Anna calls, the whine evident in her voice as she gives him a small dagger stare. "I didn't even do anything," she grumbles.

"Yes, the cook was quite bewildered at your list wasn't he?" Kai states with a smile, pouring milk into two empty glasses. He gives Elsa a playful wink this time. "He's not used to seeing Miss Anna up so early in the morning and even more-so with a list of what she wants for breakfast and how she remembers you liking them prepared."

Yeah, the blush is there. It's spreading like wildfire and she's has no control over it.

"Okay Kai!"Anna nearly yells, getting the jug from the old man, placing it down for him, and pushing him to the direction of the door. "We'll call you when we're done. Thank you! Thank you so very, very much."

His endearing chuckle trails his retreating form, the redhead semi-stomping to the chair to her right side and sitting on it unceremoniously. She finds that the other girl's eyes are still resolute on ignoring her presence, but the gratefulness she has for this small action supersedes any other convention, so she leans over, grabs the chair's handle, and pulls until they chairs are touching one another. Green-blue eyes stare at her bashfully, an embarrassed (lovely, endearing, wonderful) smile atop a beautiful face. She squashes the urge to lean over and kiss pouty lips and instead grazes a hot cheek instead. The heat atop her lips from the small contact gives her such a delirious sense of high she's not able to retreat until after several seconds, and even then, she remains quite unapologetic of the fact.

Maybe it even emboldens her, because, as she's putting a folded napkin over her lap, she asks with a hint of teasing, "Now that you know how I feel, do my actions feel different than what they were before?"

If it's at all possible, the younger girl becomes even more red, and this time shoots her an unamused glare. "You said don't misconstrue your actions…" she grumbles, getting her own napkin and putting it over her lap as well. "If you continue this, you'll be sorry."

Elsa laughs, picking up a fork and picking up some bacon with it. "Something tells me regardless of what you'll do, it'll be a good thing on my end."

Anna hmphs following her cue and putting some food in her plate as well. "I'm going to make you eat your words."

She smirks at the threat. "But first we should eat what you've planned, yes?"

Green-blue eyes roll, but her frown disappears after and is quickly replaced by a sheepish smile. "I actually wanted to apologize for last night and this seemed like the best way to do it."

The confession confuses her mid-bite and leaves the fork hanging in the air before her mouth. She puts it down and gathers her sister's attention. "Anna, if anything I should apologize. Tha—

"No…" the other girl cuts her off quickly, her eyes flashing resolutely. "Not…not what happened in this room. I-I can't say I'm over it, but let's just…get on with it. I'm talking about after…in your bedroom."

"Then even more-so…I—

"I kept you up last night, didn't I?"

The redhead's words, not what she's expecting, flits a worrisome look upon her own, recollection of last night and exactly what Anna is talking about giving her the understanding she needed. It serves to only make her feel undeserving even more.

When Elsa had woken up this morning, she had tried to mask the bags under her eyes so her sister wouldn't ask about them. It wouldn't do to explain why her night had been sleepless, although apparently, the reason is already quite obvious to the younger girl.

On the first night back home in which she had shared her bed with her sister, nothing seemed amiss with her. As far as she remembered, Anna had slept tightly coiled atop her for the duration of the evening while she, with her restlessness, was up just a bit longer than necessary. The next consecutive mornings, she had spotted her and her usual disarray of crazy hair and had questioned it then.

How was it possible for the redhead to go to sleep with relatively nice hair and wake up to a detonated bomb the next morning?

It seemed like a comical question, but she stopped questioning it last night. More than that, it had lost its mirth to her as well.

There was no way for either of them to conduct any further conversation after what the smaller girl had confessed. Guilt had eaten her to the point of silence and Anna's tears only added to it. The redhead had cried herself to sleep, tightened fists bunched on her borrowed Sci-Arc shirt, damp face tucked tightly against the crook of her neck, and smooth, curved legs splayed against her own. The older girl could only hold her tightly, feeling the coils of regret and self-anger surmounting in her gut.

She wasn't able to sleep properly after. It's not as if she wanted to, to begin with, thoughts of her wretchedness and selfishness and how she's pretty much destroyed her sister's life pounding in a resounding thud in her brain. The self-induced guilt had been plenty and unforgiving, and when she thought that exhaustion of overthinking had finally won over all other emotions, the tossing began.

At first she thought Anna had woken up again, streams of pained no's and groans coming out of a gritting mouth. It caused her to move back a little just to check, and the mixture of grief, terror, and pain she had seen across a tight visage, was enough to make her arms embrace the redhead again, this time with renewed vigor and strength.

The younger girl had thrashed for the majority of the night, and although most of the moans and groans coming out of her mouth were unintelligible babble, the blonde had caught some that pierced her heart and reduced her self-worth to a battered mess.

"_Mom. Dad. Elsa. Don't leave."_

The helplessness, the grief…she can still hear it ringing hollowly in her ears even in the brightness of daylight.

"Don't apologize for that."

Her voice sounds far away in her ears, her appetite ebbing from the sudden onslaught of self-hate.

"Elsa…"

She turns to the younger girl, lips pursed, jaw locked, and fingernails digging into palms from balled fists. "When did you start getting night terrors?"

Turquoise eyes look down at the floor between them in humility. Elsa hates herself even more.

"Anna," she states firmly, gathering the smaller girl's attention to her and only her. "I won't allow you to feel embarrassed about this. No, listen to me," she says shaking her head when the redhead's mouth begins to open in protest. "I want both of us to be on the same page here. For that to happen, we have to agree on the basics. And although you might not want to hear it, and it pains me to say it aloud, I'll say it. This is all my fault. This whole circumstance…is my fault. Don't blame yourself for anything because I won't have it. Don't apologize for anything because I don't deserve it.

"I ruined your life. Let's just…stop this delusion that I'm a perfect person and get this out of the way. I ruined your life. I fucked you over…and because it's me, of course it's not even in the way I'd want to. I ruin everything. Why is this any different? Don't apologize to me. Hit me. Slap me. Hate me! Be angry! Anything, but thinking that any of this is your fault."

"And you think that'll make it better?"

"No, I have no delusions that it'll make anything better. But if we don't address this honestly, there's no forward progression, and more than anything that's what I want with you. Not empty words, not strained smiles, definitely not apologies. I want to…deserve you. I want to deserve to be your sister, because right now, I don't deserve anything else."

They're caught in a stare down after her harsh words, green-blues pleading and still apologetic much to her chagrin, and her own resonating in self-imposed hate mingled with resolution. And before she's quite aware, the guilt comes back, so much stronger than the anger, and she draws back, cold fingers grasping pulsating temples.

And of course, she's ruined breakfast. After all the effort the smaller girl has put into it…

"I'm sorry Anna." The sardonic laughter comes unbidden, followed by a worn out sigh. "I'm never one to do anything badly…so of course ruining breakfast is a cakewalk in comparison to—

"Let's make a deal."

The strength in Anna's voice rings out in clarity, capturing her attention and forcing her to sit up just a bit straighter.

"You don't want me to apologize. You don't want me to be embarrassed about my situation." The redhead nods, looking as if she's keeping a mental tally of what she must do. "Fine, I'll do that. Or…not do it—whatever. I'll stop doing these things. But you." Now she's looking at the blonde with a fiery disposition, mouth set in a hard line and leaning almost…aggressively in her direction. "You need to stop this…this…self-loathing. No, let me finish." She smirks in outward petulance at the well placed mimic, Elsa sighing shortly before leaning back into her seat and listening as attentively as before. "Elsa…you have this…view of yourself…and it's not pretty. I—you know what I see when I look at you? The perfect sister. You-you're so _good_ at being the oldest. You're able to carry responsibility weightlessly, you speak and things happen. Generally, you give a vibe kind of like dad. There's a resoluteness to it. Like…this is what I want and I'll get it. You have the brains and the looks and…I know you don't like to hear it, especially maybe because it's coming from me, but I think you're perfect. I don't care if any one else says otherwise—they can shove their opinions up where I can't see them…yours included."

Elsa chuckles mirthlessly at the last bit, but keeps her silence, eyes darting between unflinching blue-green orbs.

"So…here's my proposal for forward progression. I'll stop the apologies. I'll tell you everything about it unabashedly—anything you want to know. In return, I don't want to see the guilt or the self-hate. More than not seeing it, I don't want you to feel it anymore. I know it's difficult, but I feel the difficulty level is the same as mine. That's my proposal. Accept it and we move on and eat breakfast. Or we maintain stasis…sit here until we're both old and bitter and can't stand each other because of it."

The mental picture makes Elsa laugh, her hand coming up to automatically push some stray strands of red hair behind a pink ear. The endearment takes the younger girl aback, but she smiles regardless.

"Please, Elsa?" she asks, voice softer now, pleading and catches the older girl's heart easily. "All of this is difficult enough without both of us making it even harder, right?"

The blonde's face stretches into a smile, a small sigh coming out in tandem to a confirming nod. "I'll try my best…but you know I can't help the way I feel about all of this."

Anna merely nods, her beautiful face brighter today than she's seen in a while. "Maybe I can help you forget."

"It's not something I ever will, unfortunately."

The redhead sighs, hand encompassing her fork and stabbing a sausage noisily. The action makes Elsa smile outwardly. "Mom and dad are right…you really are good at wallowing."

"When did they say that?" she asks, but not before joining her sister and picking up her utensil as well.

They resume breakfast even though the majority of it has turned cold. For some reason, it tastes better though, and the older girl feels that this can only be attributed to her sister's attitude and mood.

"Never," the redhead answers funnily, giving her a grin. "They said it in my head in regards to you. Feels like something they'd say."

She nods, remembering her conversations with her mother, especially the first couple ones in which the elder female Andersen had visited her in California and they had spoken about her feelings regarding her sister.

"Mom always did say that…" she says as an afterthought, tipping the teapot to a waiting cup and watching the swirls of heat emanating from the spout. "Always warned me about early onset wrinkles…gave me some cream to help one of the last times she visited."

She smiles at the memory, finding the same one on her sister's face when she looks up.

"She visited you…right? When she got me the shirt and hoody?"

They both already know the answer, but honesty in all aspects is also another thing she's bringing into this forward progression arrangement. "Yes. She wanted to celebrate my birthday with me. It was a couple of weeks after it."

Anna pouts, stuffing a whole egg into her mouth to ensure the older girl wouldn't see it, but she does, and the guilt at its appearance is fast and steady.

"Shtoph ith."

Food particles, yellow and white with spittle, come out at the smaller girl's words, Elsa's laughter giving her enough fuel for embarrassment before flinging a bacon bit at her where it stays on her shirt.

The blonde's eyes narrow playfully, picking at the piece of morsel and popping it in her mouth. "Dad wouldn't appreciate us making a mess in his study…"

The smaller girl apparently learns her lessons quickly and swallows before replying, "He'd love that we're still using it regardless of the mess."

Their eyes both land at the empty executive chair at the head of the desk, thoughts of the elder male Andersen first and forefront in their minds.

"It's still easy to picture him there…" Anna says, leaning against her chair and taking a swig of her milk.

Elsa nods in agreement. "The first thing I thought of, after Kai's phone call, was that I wouldn't be able to remember them after some time…I'm so afraid of forgetting them. They don't deserve that, especially after everything that they've done for me."

"We won't." The smaller girl says it in such an unyielding manner that the blonde believes it without question. She takes another hearty drink of her milk, gives the taller girl a firm smile and looks back at the chair, seeing something that Elsa can't.

The morning light bounces from the window and into the chair at seemingly the perfect time. And it's not hard to picture him there at all, sitting, looking at a folder of papers and scratching at light brown strands, causing them to fall in semi-disarray. His blazer would be off, sleeves rolled all the way to his elbows and his tie hanging casually, the first couple of buttons on the dress shirt popped out.

_"__We won't."_

Spoken with such confidence…and she believes it wholeheartedly—knows that if she needs a reminder, all she'd need to do is come to this room, sit on this chair, and look forward. Everything else will fall into place.

O—O

She wants to open all of them. There's nothing else in the world she wants more at this present moment than that.

"Elsaaaa."

The whine in her little sister's voice is evident, and she wants to ignore it, but finds that she can't. She looks up to pleading blue-greens, teeth worrying over a bottom lip. The thought of swiping her thumb over said lip seizes her for just a moment before her attention goes back up to beseeching eyes.

She sighs, understands, and nods. "Can I read them tonight?"

The letters, grasped tightly in her hand, are bundled together and held up by an orange silk ribbon. She wants to open all of them and rake over words only meant for her, but at her sister's growing mortification and outward display of displeasure, agrees not to.

"I was hoping you'd read them when I'm not in the general vicinity…" The younger girl says, eyes straying away and face brightening into a heavy blush.

The reaction given only makes her want to read it all the more. "Why? I doubt there's anything compromising in them," the blonde says flippantly. "It'd certainly be different if _I_ were the one writing you a letter."

The blush only brightens more on Anna's face, and she tries to hide it by looking deeper into the safe they're both currently standing in front of. She reaches inside, grabs the cellphone she had chucked in its bowels the night before and presses the home button. The case had done its job—the screen remains the same: unbroken, but with a twenty percent or less battery life warning splashing atop everything else.

"Did you know they kept your cellphone?"

Elsa shakes her head, eyes drawn to a younger redhead smiling brilliantly at her from the screen. Now that she has something to go by, she can see the outward differences between the then freshman and her sister now, and what she sees makes their agreement even harder. There's no doubt that it's the same girl, but the five years hadn't been nice to the shorter girl. There are worry lines in her face, haggard and worn—creases in her forehead and the sides of her eyes that weren't there before. More than that though is merely the expression. Her freshman self looks carefree—a young girl ready to meet the world head on. And the girl of today? She's still there albeit withdrawn. Jaded seems like the perfect description.

"You have the face on."

She looks up to scrutinizing turquoises.

"I hope it's not the lewd one," she smirks, and wipes the solemnity in her features.

"No, I prefer your lewd one," the younger girl retorts, mirroring her expression. She curves her head so that she's looking at the picture on the cellphone, nostalgia splashing there—a face Elsa notes she didn't see the first time Anna had looked at the phone, not that she can blame her. "Considering that it's not dead and everything, it looks like mom and dad kept it charged…I bet the charger's in here somewhere."

"It would've been so much easier to just…disconnect the line."

But when the blonde looks up towards her sister's face, she can see why they didn't. Leading her on may have been difficult, but cutting off hope in one form or another was just…cruel.

She reaches out to the quiet girl, embraces a thin waist with both arms and hugs her from behind, her chin resting on a soft shoulder. They both look down to where she's holding the phone and she swipes the screen, inputting the four number pass that she puts in everything.

"I can't read your letters with you, but can we read your texts at the very least?"

Anna sighs outwardly, a sheepish smile atop an unsure countenance. "It's so embarrassing…" And then gives her a small dagger stare, the smile belying her words. "These were supposed to be for your eyes only…I wasn't meant to see how you'd react to them…"

Elsa merely smiles at her. "Regardless of the case, I doubt there'll be anything incriminating."

"Still doesn't make it any less embarrassing…"

The older girl leads her sister to the loveseat, refreshing old texts in the meanwhile and a minute or so later when they're both seated and comfortable and the latter girl is resolutely staring away from the cellphone, she finally comes to the first one she hasn't read.

_You jerk! I told you to wake me up so I can say bye! Call me when your plane lands!_

Maybe this was a bad idea…

Her silence, something Anna wasn't expecting, perks the younger girl's attention enough to lean closer and read the text. Her lips purse indignantly mixed with mortification.

Elsa sighs, forehead leaning into the smaller girl's shoulder apologetically.

"You left without saying goodbye on purpose, right?"

She hates how the redhead's voice seems so much smaller—hates how she can hear the insignificance the younger girl feels in herself.

But she nods nonetheless in answer, gulping the guilt—willing it away because this is all Anna asks of her and if she can't do this one thing, there's no way she can ever feel deserving of even the smaller girl's attention. "Sorry I'm a jerk."

The redhead laughs, slapping her thigh playfully. It incites a smile from her as she scrolls the screen to produce more texts.

She reads each one to herself, Anna sitting quietly beside her. Sometimes the smaller girl would lean over and look, but most of the time she'd keep her straight back posture and let the blonde stew silently, keeping her body firm for support even though Elsa knew it should've been the other way around.

The texts weren't as many as she had expected. The redhead had tried within the first few months to send her one at least every day, but that had stopped completely after a while, each one even more bitter than the last. The only ones she had found that was constant were greetings: happy birthday, happy thanksgiving, merry christmas, happy new year, rinse, and repeat. It had gone from overly familiar to staunch and formal—a good indication of their relationship's past and present.

"Sorry Anna," she can only repeat and the other girl would merely give her a heartbreakingly accepting smile and shrug…a look that says she's not quite over it, but she knows now and that's all that really matters.

Elsa isn't sure why, but with curiosity being the main culprit, she presses the call button, showing the missed calls of the past five years.

She feels Anna stiffen first before a loud groaning, "Nooooo" comes out of the smaller girl.

A hundred and twenty-two missed calls. And one voicemail?

"Elsa…stop, please?"

Now her curiosity is intensified…Because her sister's pleading isn't one of anguish…but humiliation. The former would've given her ample reason to not press the play button—she'd never want to listen if the other girl would give such a strong reaction. But humility…well, that's another thing altogether.

She presses play, puts it on speaker, and laughs outwardly as her sister buries her face in her palms, ears tinged bright red at the tip.

_"__Hello?! Answer your phone, you dumb jerk!"_

Anna's drunk…This is a drunk voicemail at…Elsa checks the timeframe: 3:36 in the morning. The pulsating sound of treble and bass dumps in static shocks in the background, and the older girl can only guess (it would be a good one) the entire situation and where it's ending for the night.

_"__Is it so hard to answer your phone?!" _DrunkAnna yells indignantly, while presentAnna only buries her face deeper into her hands, the mumbling, "I forgot all about this…" coming out of a groaning mouth._ "To reply to _one_ text?! One freakin' e-mail—Hey! Give me back my phone you asshole!" _

_"__Anna who the hell are you calling at 3:30 in the morning?! Hello? Sorry about this. I'll be taking her home so don't worry—_

_"__It's a voicemail dumbass! That _jerk_ won't answer it anyway!"_

The girl now holding the phone grunts. _"Regardless Anna. No one cares for phone calls at three in the freakin' morning." _

_"__Hah! If she calls at three in the morning, I'd answer it…and proceed to yell death threats and—_

_"__Okay, alright. What the fuck am I getting myself into?" _The unknown girl's voice filters back to the phone, clearer and closer. _"Look, I don't know who this is—probably an ex she can't get over from what I can gather, but sorry about this. If you care at all, I'll take care of her…make sure she gets home okay and—Anna…Anna! You can't go back in! We got kicked out…goddamnit…" _

The phone cuts off, and only after does the blonde release a long sigh and for the smaller girl next to her to moan louder in mortification. She places the phone down on the coffee table, sweeps the smaller girl towards her, and pulls her so that they're laying on the loveseat, Anna's face still buried deep in her palms while Elsa begins the process of pacification.

"It's not that bad…"

"It was horrible…"

"It could've been much worse."

"How?"

How indeed? She pulls an easy one out the top of her head. "You…could've been in the middle of an orgy session and left a long, unintelligible message."

Her sister turns, gives her a strong glare, and slaps the top part of her arm. It stings a bit, but it only serves to heighten her amusement, uncontrollable laughter seeping out of her mouth momentarily. The redhead pouts, glares indignantly still, but relaxes soon after, sighing and taking her punishment in resigned silence.

When the laughter subsides, she's surprised to find an apologetic look on her sister's face, one that she wants to wipe off because it shouldn't be there in the first place.

"Sorry…"

"Hmm, I thought we had agreement to you not using that word?"

"A verbal contract is easier to bend than a written one."

"Should I procure a written contract then?"

"If I can't apologize for that, what can I say then?"

"Nothing. You don't have to say anything."

Green-blue eyes lower, as if submissively, down to the space between them. Elsa grasps on the soft chin forcing those eyes back to hers.

"Let's add something to our arrangement." When she sees the other girl's attention is gathered at her query, the blonde continues, "No apologies…period. Not from me and definitely not from you. There's one thing we can agree on: the last five years has been, for lack of a better term, shit. It was shit for you. It was shit for me. It was shit for our parents. Whose fault is that? Mine. Our arrangement clause says I can't be feeling guilty because of it, so that's what I have to work on. If I didn't turn everything to shit, you wouldn't have anything to apologize for. So it only makes sense for us to add this one small thing to our arrangement. Anything that we encounter from here on out, there'll be no apologizing. We can explain the situations and our mindset at the time, but no apologies will be given or taken because of them."

An unsure look graces the smaller girl's face, followed closely by pearly white teeth clamping on a soft, fleshy bottom lip. Her train of thought derails.

_Oh god._

"Don't do that. "

The words are out before she knows it, Anna now looking at her confusedly as heat, the only aftermath of her almost demand, rushes through her face. She gets up quickly from the couch, her mind mocking her of their earlier position, and she stomps to the safe to put much needed distance between her and the smaller girl, eyes darting at the almost empty container.

"Elsa…"

She turns, hasn't noticed because of her overworked mind that Anna had gotten up as well and is now at her face, and takes an inadvertent step back.

The smaller girl gives a helpless smile. "I swear, living with you is like…living with someone with personality ADD."

"That would be someone with bipolar disorder."

"Yeah, but yours is a specialized case in which you're overly familiar at first, and then next you're running away to the other side of the room if not the country."

Elsa laughs exasperatedly. "No…that…yes, that sounds about right."

"Don't do what? I'll say yes to your added proposal if you tell me what I shouldn't have done."

It's not as if it's that big of a deal…After everything she's already revealed…but it's not as if they've spoken about anything more than…feelings. Except maybe the whole pillow talk affair, but that she's more than willing to dump in the recess of her mind where it won't make an appearance anytime soon.

The taller girl shuts her mind off and looks away. Everything's so much easier when she's not being scrutinized by such bright eyes. "Don't bite your lip."

Just saying it out loud makes her want to smack her idiotic libido.

The reaction she gets isn't what she's expecting though. Laughter. Tons of it, sweeping down like an avalanche and it bounces around the room and adds the exasperation to herself even more. Oh yes…what is that word? Karma…right. She waits, patiently, eyes rolling, as Anna continues to laugh at her, and when, after a few minutes, it finally disappears with a rub of teary eyes, the redhead grins at her, the smile foreboding and innocent all at once.

She wonders how that's possible, but there's no better explanation for it.

"You done?"

"No…not by a long shot." The redhead chuckles a bit more, aftershocks of her last bout of hilarity taking over again. "It's such a new thing…and it's so important, but I forget it…"

Her words confuse the older girl for a moment before she puzzles them out herself. "You don't have to remember…I'd actually prefer it if you forget…"

"But then I'd have sessions where I'd bite my lip, or moan at a really good tasting food, or wanna hug you 'cuz you're just so huggable, and I wouldn't know which boundaries I've crossed until you're all the way in the other side of the room again. I mean…Christ! I think I bite my lip a lot! I've never really thought about it…"

Elsa has a strong urge of banging her head against the safe door. The exasperation of the entire situation is laughable at best and cringe-worthy at most. Certainly not a conversation she had ever dreamed of speaking with her little sister about. "You don't have to change anything," she says with a sigh, palm coming up to rub her forehead. "I'll…I won't act like such a weirdo."

"Aww, but I'm starting to really grow fond of that weirdo…"

The blonde rolls her eyes. "Dork…come on. The safe's almost empty. Let's see what else mom and dad put in there and then maybe go out…see the city. Have a normal day."

"Sounds like a date."

"You're really going to pursue this?"

A pink tongue darts out to her, and her adoration for the smaller girl only heightens.

She's mildly surprised at the rest of the contents of the safe though. Other than her cellphone, the bundle of letters, and one white envelope, there isn't anything more in there. It's not a safe made for the movies where the whole backside has stacks upon stacks of cash or an unknown case housing a gun. After everything that they've been through, it's almost anticlimactic at how empty it is.

Anna reaches towards the envelope and pushes the lid up and out of the way.

"This is the last thing…" she says needlessly and pulls out some papers neatly folded to fit inside.

They stand closer so that both of them can read through the contents, and Elsa immediately puts two and two together at how her parents were planning on reuniting their family.

Three plane tickets to LA on June 15th. Her classes would've just ended and she assumes Anna's would've as well. They would've celebrated the end of term a few days after arriving and according to four already paid tickets, go to the Disneyland resort in Anaheim for an entire week thereafter. The thought that they put in—the time it must've taken from them both…

"This would've been so great…"

Anna's voice is small and she draws the redhead to her automatically, hands coming around her waist as the younger girl leans into her, but keeps her attention to the papers in still shaky hands.

"I would've been able to see you…"

That scenario…that event that will never take place feels like a shard imbedded in her chest. It produces small surface cuts at every breath she takes and the pain it brings…it makes her feel deserving of every wretched thing she's done so far.

Anna smiles up at her, beautiful even when the depression is written clearly in her expression. "You didn't know about this either, right?"

Elsa shakes her head. "No, this was definitely going to be a surprise."

"This would've been perfect."

It would've. She can picture the whole scenario perfectly, with her lounging in her condo one random night, nothing to do, the doorbell ringing, her answering the door, and getting a small heart attack in the process at who she sees standing at the threshold. Her father would give her a deal-with-it smile, her mother's a bit more apologetic, and Anna? She wonders briefly how Anna would be like. Would she be forthcoming and bright? Standoffish and wary? Silent and scrutinizing? Maybe all of the above. Maybe none. There's no way to ever know.

This would've been the perfect scenario for a reunion. Unfortunately, life doesn't do perfect very well. No, on the contrary life does imperfect, screw-you-and-your-ideas, you're-not-getting-what-you-want, deal-with-it very well. It does that so well to a tee she wants to scream.

She takes the papers out of her sister's cold grasp and puts it back in the safe. The what ifs aren't going to do either of them a favor. It won't do anything, but help them wallow in the what could've beens. According to her sister she's good at that, but she won't allow Anna to go that route and join her.

"Let's go out," Elsa says with a small tug to gather the redhead's attention. She wants to erase the melancholy engraved there. "Show me…show me what's changed in the city. Let's go—

"Where?" The question is soft and desperate, filled with longing that she knows she can't fulfill.

"Anywhere, but here. Show me where you de-stress."

Her words bring a spark back into blue-green eyes, a small smile coming across a youthful face soon after.

This. More than forward progression, or maybe because of it, this is all she wants: Anna's smile back—one without the creases of worry or responsibility or the overlying sadness that catches at the end of her lips. She wants the carefree, bright, a contender for the sun on just how gleamingly perfect, smile. The one she used to be able to conjure with just a couple choice words. The one she didn't break and reduce to ashes.

She knows what she must do to bring it back. The hardest part would probably be forgiving herself. It feels like something that'll never happen now that she's seen the consequences of her actions, the rippling ebbs of the stone she'd carelessly thrown in without further higher thinking. But it doesn't matter just how difficult it'll be for her—on the contrary, the harder the difficulty level, the better. She doesn't deserve an easy way out. She deserves every cut in her heart, every pained breath, every lump in her throat, every weary crack of tired bones. And she'll persevere. She has to. Not for herself. Never for herself. But for Anna. She's the only real incentive needed and required.

She'll bring back that smile or die trying. There are no other options available.

O—O

Mid-afternoon traffic through downtown New York is as expected—blaring horns, congestion, dandelion yellow bumper to bumper. It's never mattered what time of day or night— traffic: foot, vehicular, or otherwise rules the overcrowded city, dwarfed like ants amidst the metropolitan skyscrapers that impede an already high sun.

A position Elsa has never really thought she'd be in, is one she's in now.

_"__It's the fastest way to get around,"_ her little sister had said less than a half an hour back with a carefree shrug, and although she couldn't say anything to refute that statement, the wariness and excitement (a weird combination) fluttered in her stomach regardless.

"You alright back there?"

Her hold strengthens around the other girl's waist automatically, deft fingers sliding over warm leatherskin jacket, and fighting the urge to shiver uncontrollably because of the overstimulation this ride has so far given her. The voice slips through the mic in her helmet easily, coaxing her ears into attention while her body, still hormonal like a teenager on prom night, takes on an outsider's perspective of their position for the nth time in less than an hour.

When the blonde had proposed to go out for the afternoon, she had expected to go around the same way as they had since her arrival. Anna had a different plan.

She felt her heart literally lurch out of her chest, almost painfully, at first glance of the smaller girl after they had agreed to get ready to go out for the day.

A full body, black leather suit, white and red stripes conveniently placed at curves and folds had her mouth drying faster than a half empty glass of water under a mid-day heat in the Sahara. Elsa doubted she had any sort of control over her body in the ten minute timeframe after Anna had stepped out of her room wearing the skin hugging body suit. And her heart…her heart was doing a great job reminding her of her inability to live without it if it would suddenly go kaput from overstimulation—the roars in her ears were fierce and loud, unsteady—an impending heart attack.

She has half a mind to do an elevator look, the blood rush to her head feeling like it's seeking an outward trajectory through her nose.

God she hoped not…

The trousers enveloped a luscious lower half, hugging a curvaceous waist as it crawls down to muscular thighs and endless legs. The blonde wills her mind to stay rated-g, but with the temptation placed before her in a silver platter, it all but blows to smithereens, especially when her sister (_your sister, _her brain tries to remind futilely) turns back around possibly to grab something from her bedroom and she's awarded with a pair of statuesque, symmetrical, proportional (_stop brain_) buttocks, every move and bounce somehow intensified because of the garb.

She wants to go back in her bedroom. Lock herself in there for the rest of the day and do and think of unspeakable things until her libido is finally back in check. It doesn't matter that it's shameful or if she'll hate herself even more after…right now curbing the appetite is all that mattered.

They didn't have plans or anything did they? Her mind is unsurprisingly slow on the uptake.

"Elsa, get in here!"

_No…_she wants to answer, pulling her fingers to her face for a needed reality face rub. A second later and she's pulling at the roots of her hair too—anything to help her derail her thoughts.

"Elsa, you need something more than what you're wearing. It's a safety hazard."

She has half a mind to look down at her gray core cropped pencil trousers and black and white splatter painted camisole, and her confusion finally overrides her sex drive. Wary legs lead her to Anna's room, pausing at the threshold to see what it is her sister wants and getting a view of the rest of her attire. The smaller girl's leather jacket is open, for now, to reveal a red, low cut camisole inside, the v of her cleavage seemingly like an open promise full of possibilities. Of what Elsa strikes the thought aside, and hopes vainly that her lewd face won't be a recurring problem.

"C'mere."

She's only glad her sister has been pretty much inattentive of her silence and own inattention and walks, as if to meet her executioner, to the redhead's side, her eyes catching another leather jacket being pulled out of the hanger and pushed in her direction shortly after.

"You don't have to change your pants, but at least wear a jacket," Anna says as she gives her a critical eye, sees something that she's pleased with, and urges her to put it on. "It's a bit hot for it, but the stray rocks can be pretty dangerous. Don't want you to get hurt."

The blonde's confused look only heightens, but she puts the jacket on regardless, a stray thought that she doesn't really match coming to mind, but not caring much for it.

"Where…are we going?" Her mind is back…finally. "Kai…"

She trails off as Anna shakes her head and gives her a wide, carefree grin. "I'm driving. Kai's not coming with us. I want alone time with you."

She wants to say that they've had plenty of alone time, but is inwardly pleased at hearing the smaller girl say so regardless. Even then, she's still not sure what they need to be dressed so particularly for…unless…

Her curiosity is assuaged five minutes later when Anna leads her to the garage and takes the top off of a motorcycle with a flourish. Elsa can feel her eyes bulge out at seeing the arctic white gleaming contraption, a wary hand coming up automatically to caress its cold, glittering body.

She's not very knowledgable of vehicles in general and even more-so, motorcycles, but she knows enough that this one is exceptional. The brand speaks for itself, and she reads the rest of the letterings: Ducati 899 Panigale. The chassis is curved for maximum agility, the body not quite compact, but not muscled either—a good in between place of the two in terms of lightness. She can only bet that the engine is monstrous, expecting nothing less from what looks like a superbike.

"You can ride a motorcycle…" It was meant to be a question, but it didn't come out that way.

The redhead flashes her a grin. "Yup. Had been since I was eighteen. It's the fastest way of getting around."

"I'm surprised mom and dad allowed it."

"Me too…but now that I know everything, it's answered another question that's been eating at me." Anna's smile wobbles just a fraction, her eyes flickering to the motorcycle. "It was one of the things I wouldn't budge about…If you're guilty of guilt tripping dad into keeping your secret, then I'm just as guilty for guilt tripping them into allowing me to have a motorcycle's license. Not that they could stop me after eighteen, but mom, especially, was a nervous wreck about it. They agreed too quickly when I simply said it would make me happy…even helped me buy the bike after. I've always wondered why they didn't put up much of an argument…I was ready to fight tooth and nail." Her chuckle comes out mirthless, but a sigh and a zip of her jacket later and she's atop the contraption, straddling it easily as if she's done it a million of times. The small fact that she probably has lessens the blonde's trepidation somewhat.

Her inattentiveness leads to surprise when the younger girl pulls her inwards, towards the bike and essentially her sister, lithe fingers ghosting over her jacket and zipping it up for her. The smaller girl turns, rummages through a bin and comes out with an unopened box, breathing heavily into it and procuring heavy dust particles everywhere. A button nose wrinkles, Elsa's expression a near mimic, as the redhead swipes a steady hand over the black box and momentarily hands it over to her.

The confusion doesn't last long for the older girl because curiosity wins easily again. She opens the quite large box, understanding dawning on her soon after.

Anna's smile is sad and wistful. "Never thought I'd be able to give it to you, but the first time I saw it, I could _not,_ not buy it."

Inside the box is an arctic blue motorcycle helmet, almost invisible small snowflake decals littering the exterior of it. The color is surprisingly alike to the motorcycle's own finish, and Elsa wants to ask more over Anna's choice of _everything, _but knows that the answer is already staring at her in the face. She wonders how many decisions she's affected by just not being here…How much of it being the wrong one because of her own absence. This is a small thing in the face of everything that they've gone through for the past few days, but it still doesn't make her question the matter any less.

The hug she gives to the smaller girl is quick and strong, a small kiss placed on a sweat sheen forehead.

"Thank you, Anna."

The sad looks banishes and in its place, the smile she's grown to really adore.

"Come on! I'm kinda excited to let you see it."

She's granted one last excited look before her sister stuffs another helmet into her own head, pressing a few choice buttons so that the mic in the helmets syncs somehow.

"Can you hear me?"

She hears the disembodied voice float through the opening of the helmet and places it over her head, folding long strands over her neck so that the entirety of it fits tight and snugly.

"Yeah," she answers easily and with an inadvertent nod, eyeing the small space behind the other girl dubiously.

She tries (tries being the operative word) to resolutely ignore the thin, fit body snuggled almost provocatively on the motorcycle, her heartbeat thudding in her ears loudly giving the only indication she needs that she's failing. She's going to have to go on too…and that thought leaves her elated, excited, nervous, and terrified in exactly that sequence.

Anna flips her visor so that the blonde is met with expressive blue-green eyes, the twinkle of mirth and mischief splashed on the youthful face adding her already mounting anxiety. "I don't have to see your lewd face to know it's there," she says with a smirk forcing an outward sigh from the taller girl. "Quit gawking and get on." With one last nod towards the backseat, the redhead flips the visor back so she sees the tinted plastic before she expels just one more outward sigh and attempts to get on the bike.

Again, with try being the operative word, she swings a leg over the motorcycle and attempts to balance herself without touching the younger girl, noting briefly as Anna stops paying attention to her enough to turn on the engine. The thrum is quiet, but she can feel the power amidst the vibrations traveling up her leg and she finds the only way for her to maintain her no-touching position is to grab the fold underneath her seat while keeping a very rigid, upright position.

"You're so ridiculous," her sister's voice streams in her ears, and before she can protest, a pair of gloved hands are grabbing her own and pulling her towards the redhead's crouching posture, folding them over a slim waist until her fingers are clutching one another. Her frontside is so fitfully snug against Anna's back that it takes all of her willpower to just think—not about heat upon heat, breasts against a smooth, leather clad back, legs folded over creamy, muscular legs, sweat dripping, slithering from her neck and tickling down to her body— "You're breathing kinda loud there."

"Calling me a jerk…this is a low blow by any standard."

Her own voice is low, husky, guttural, and the way the redhead's body straightens, perks upon hearing it makes the entire situation even more impossible. She tightens her hold upon the other's skinny waist, head dropping onto a strong back and her eyes shutting to ensure her mental faculties are still all there. The sensory overload has been, so far, too much to bear. How long was this drive and would she still be alive by the end of it?

This feeling, coursing through her system in intermittent waves, is the number one reason she had opted to leave. The desire, often trumping over affection, the physical winning over the emotional aspect—if she had been able to rein this emotion in—kept it from spreading into vulgar territories, she wouldn't have needed physical distance. But more than loving a sweet personality, a winning smile, a bright, cheerful girl that could make her believe the world was a great place to be in, there was also the need: insatiable, hungry, constant—a starving child needing attention. She had wished it away, nights upon nights. Wished that when she'd look up she would see her little sister again, not a beautiful forbidden girl turning into a just as appealing, growing, curvaceous woman. But the praying had been for naught. The distance and time had also been useless. More than anything, it was a farce, a security blanket riddled in holes. Her feelings hadn't changed. They haven't even been dormant.

Elsa still wants her. Elsa still needs her. Like air. Like water. Her gravitational pull. She's so affected by everything, nothing else seems important; thrusted in the backseat with little to no thought.

But she has to learn how to let go. Now more than ever. Because Anna doesn't need who she is now. She doesn't need someone so… emotionally unstable. She needs a pillar of support. She needs a family. She needs…her older sister.

Elsa can't be more than that because Anna doesn't need more than that. Her own wants and needs, just like everything, are shoved to the back burner in the light of her sister's desires. And if the younger girl needs her to be an older sister, she will be. She has to be. It'll make Anna happy, and that's all that should matter.

A selfish thought flashes through her head before she can dismiss it entirely. Because a small, childish part of her wants compensation—wants the feelings and emotions she's vested into this relationship to be returned in the manner that she wants…but that thought drifts away, back into the infernal abyss it had been dredged from.

Compensation?

Here it is. In the form of her sister not pushing her away and still maintaining family ties. It's here in these small instances where she can put an arm around the smaller girl, give her a brief friendly kiss, share a fleeting smile—it's in the form of teases and jokes, innuendos and flirts—never returned, of course not. She doesn't deserve that much. She deserves much less.

She can't be selfish when that's all she's been for the last five years. All she can be now is whatever Anna wants her to be…and she'll take her bitter medicine, swallow it, and not complain, not because she's a good girl, but because she has to.

This train of though hasn't derailed twenty minutes into their ride into the city. She hasn't been paying much attention to their surroundings, but from what little she _has_ seen, the city that never sleeps hasn't changed much either. She's sure there has been changes, but nothing major that warrants any further attention or query.

The hot day is stifled in her leather jacket, the drenching of sweat accumulating from her face and hair trickling down towards her body. It feels sticky _everywhere_, but she lodges no formal complaint. It's been silent since their departure from the estate and she's not one to break silences, especially the awkward ones. She merely keeps a strong hold onto a firm stomach, distracts herself with the hustle and bustle of the mid-afternoon shuffle so her mind doesn't stray to the just as hot body pressed against hers, and eventually they break out of the traffic and into a still urban part of the city, but with less congestion.

She sits up straighter, attention perked as they take a left turn into an alleyway. Much to her surprise, the ride, albeit silent, was smooth and seemingly effortless. Her sister may have just been driving for two years, but her balance, control, and speed had all been with the blonde in mind: safety first, showboating second, at least from what Elsa had observed. Something tells her the redhead isn't as cautious when she's driving by herself.

They slow to a crawl, Anna's legs guiding the bike towards a rusting, yellowish garage. The gray two story building is a fat dwarf in comparison to the others littering the area. Most of the other complexes—apartments and the like, tower like standing Ticonderoga pencils—five to ten stories high and thin on the perimeter. The gray, generic building before them sprawls twice, maybe even three times the average space of one of the buildings. It certainly looks older. The other complexes vary in bold new colors: sunburn red, mustard yellow, neon orange—there's no question that they're in a weirder part of town, and the contrast of this sad looking structure makes the difference even more jarring.

The screeching of the garage door opening—the sound of a thousand pigs squealing before a slaughter—catches Elsa's attention enough to stop the simple observation of her surroundings and look in alarm at the amplified noise around them.

"Yeah, I can't go in here in the middle of the night without at least one of the surrounding tenants screaming obscenities," Anna laughs freely in her ear.

She chuckles at the words, grips the smaller girl tighter as she steers them inside the stuffy abode, and takes the helmet off as soon as the bike is parked and the engine is cut off, cold fingers wiping the sweat from her forehead and carding through bunched tresses so they flow freely over her back.

The redhead removes herself from the bike in record time, pulling off the helmet and setting it on a strategically placed side table near what Elsa assumes is the regular parking spot for her motorcycle. It's not as if she can blame the smaller girl—she wouldn't leave the vehicle outside for any length of time for anything.

"Gimme a sec Elsa," her sister calls over her shoulder as she makes her way familiarly across the room, taking off her jacket and leaving it haphazardly on a random stool, before ascending a ladder at the farthest wall that leads to a jutting second story. "I need to turn on the AC."

The blonde forces her eyes to wander away from a lithe, freckled body in those sinful skin tight trousers and deposits her helmet next to her sister's. In the quest for a good distraction she moves across the open floor plan eyes raking in everything, but the ascending girl. What is abundantly clear is that Anna has driven them to her studio. The gray, concrete floor is not exactly clean, but not dirty either, splotches of grime and miscellaneous earthy substances littering the majority of the walking space. In the very middle of the room, barring any form of convenience from moving towards any one side to the other without strafing, is a rectangular, fifteen by seven feet metallic work table housing numerous unfinished art works. Molds of caked clay litter almost half of one side, the pieces ranging from large items such as vases, potting plants, and foot size sculptures to small animal or cartoonish figurines. The other side houses glass work: small sushi plates, bowls, shards of every color and hue haphazardly left either in a box filled to the brim with other like items or randomly on an already designed mug or plate. The rest of the table also consists of balled and discarded drawings, paint and sketching sets, blank small canvases—a starving artist's wet dream. It's almost amazing how many things are littering the tabletop and how much of it is only halfway finished or barely even started.

The younger girl isn't quite back yet, but the blonde can hear her scuffles and random grunts from beyond the ladder. While waiting, she decides to give herself a small tour. She doesn't have to walk to see everything, the open floor plan making it easy to decipher where everything ends and begins. The lower left of the studio houses her motorcycle, a clean empty space used as a parking spot and it looks like nothing more. It doesn't take much to see that this area is the cleanest in the entire abode. At the bottom rightmost corner is what looks to be a kiln for both clay and glass. Elsa's not sure how to differentiate the two, but it makes the most possible sense to her to have two different kilns that can do two different jobs instead of similar ones.

Curving her head to the upper right, she sees a small corner kitchen, complete with a stovetop oven, microwave, toaster, and a medium sized fridge barred by a granite countertop that snakes around to form its own perimeter. Lastly, on the upper leftmost corner, a large canvas stands amidst other unfinished paintings, a dirty roll of cloth placed over the floor to impede or stop the array of paints from staining everything. The fact that it's so stained with a rainbow of colors has the older girl just a tad confused though—it looks as if Anna murdered a unicorn and used the cloth to wipe away the evidence.

The buzzing of some machinery catches her attention momentarily, unbearable heat flashing down from the vents before a blast of cold air replaces it. Creaks sound from the pitter pattering of sneakers and before she's aware of it, Anna is heading back down the ladder, still looking sinfully delightful in her getup. Once again, the older girl makes an obvious show of looking busy, picking up a glass shard from the work table and assessing it far more interestedly than is merited.

"You ready for a de-stress lesson?"

She puts the obsidian glass down and gives the redhead a questioning look. The younger girl nods to the direction of the painting area of her studio, grabs her by the wrist, and leads her there. The smell of paint, while lingering in the enclosed space, is amplified and most prevalent in this corner, the blonde eyeing the colorful fabric strewn on the ground before giving everything else a critical eye.

The large canvas, upon closer inspection, is a landscape portrait of a snow capped mountain—the perspective of a cameraman at the foot of a cold lake and the mountain's reflection in shimmering waves atop pristine waters. It looks like something out of a Bob Ross painting, titanium white, happy clouds and all. The attention to detail and bold, playful strokes has even her, someone who knows close to nothing about art, impressed.

"This is really good Anna…" she breaths out, unable to contain the marvel and wonder at her tone.

The younger girl gives a pleased grin before grabbing the painting by the easel's legs and carrying it to the other side of the enclosed space. "Help me grab the rest and make sure they're facing the other way."

Still a bit confused, the taller girl follows her sister regardless and begins helping with the chore of carrying a total of six paintings to the left side of the room, leaving ten feet of open space from the nearest painting to the farthest wall.

Anna wordlessly trudges to a nearby closet and comes out with two white bodysuits. If it's anything to go by it looks as if they're either going to be taking care of hazmat or joining a surgery in an OR already in session. Either way, it makes no sense to the taller girl whatsoever.

"Are we prepping for surgery?" the blonde asks jokingly as she's handed one of her own.

"Well, it'll be messy that's for sure…" is the only cryptic reply.

Elsa can only shrug and comply, unzipping the rough not quite cloth yet definitely not plastic fabric until she's able to put her legs inside the makeshift booties and zip the full on body gear until it consumes the rest of her. The heat doesn't make it easier, but curiosity and her sister's palpable excitement stops her immediately from complaining. Eyeing the attached hoody warily, the blonde decides to forgo the use of it even though Anna makes a point of tucking every strand of copper hair in hers until only her freckled, excited face is visible.

"You know what this reminds me of? Other than an episode of House?" Elsa asks, getting a questioning look along with a pair of latex gloves. "The original Willy Wonka movie…with Gene Wilder."

"Ahh," Anna nods in full understanding. "The TV room."

They share nostalgic grins before Anna's off bounding towards the closet with infinite space and random thingamabobs again, this time procuring a medium sized crate with what looks to be inflated balloons, a likeness to the ones seen in carnival games where one would throw a dart to pop them. She sets the crate between them, blue-green eyes feverish in excitement.

"You ready?"

"Y-yes?" Elsa answers unsteadily and the unsure smile only grows more as Anna's grin transforms into a mischievous one.

The smaller girl reaches into the crate, palms a random inflated yellow balloon, mimics a baseball pitcher (tipping a fake hat and all), eyes an invisible runner on first base, and then throws the balloon with all her might to the offending wall, the heavy whizzing through the air noticeable before a loud thwack resounds in its stead, coloring the once off-white wall bright neon orange.

The blonde's mouth is hanging open, inviting flies and other insects to make it their nesting grounds while a glee of laughter escapes from her sister. Excitement bubbles in her chest, starting at the pit of her stomach and erupting in her throat. Without preamble, she grabs a light blue one beckoning her, squeezes it, finally feels the weight of the combination of paint and water sloshing in its cocoon, and without second thought launches it towards the wall, turquoise eyes following her every move. The loud splat is drowned by even louder giggles, scarlet hues mingling with neon orange.

It becomes a free for all thereafter. The first several balloons were aimed solely at the poor wall, the colors ricocheting to all adjacent sides and causing mayhem to bleed into an array of colors into the rag on the floor. Somewhere between the seventh and the eighth one, Anna feigns a throw to the wall only to turn towards her and chuck a swollen green balloon to her stomach. The surprised yelp comes out of her diaphragm, royal purple bleeding all over the front of her previously white bodysuit while glorious laughter echoes in her ears.

And of course she's not angry. She's not sure if she's seen her sister this happy since her arrival back home. But adoration and love can make room for payback, and as a playfully peeved growl erupts from her throat, both hands reach into the basket, green-blue eyes widening in attention.

"Now Elsa…"

The blonde doesn't allow her to finish. Whatever she had to say, Elsa's sure it's not quite important. She launches both balloons at the same time, the one in her right hand flying towards the wall behind her sister uncontrollably. It's not all bad though because the backsplash from the rupture ends up erupting like a grenade around the smaller girl, her left side and what the taller girl assumes is a majority of her back painted in candy apple red. The one catapulted by her left hand (the dominant one) flies in the proper trajectory, bursting as it lands on Anna's chest and coloring her in lush grass green, specks flying to the open spots of her face and forcing her to cough and spit some of the gunk that entered a fortunately timed open mouth.

Her hacking proves to be Elsa's downfall, because the laughter blooms and erupts from her chest uncontrollably, the last thing she sees before the tightening of mirth filled eyes her little sister attempting to wipe some of the green off of an exposed tongue with the backside of latex gloves. The blonde doesn't hear the pouncing because of the hilarity, doesn't see it because of tear ducts ready to explode from sheer joy. She does feel the jostle of a small body jumping on her, and the tumble to the ground isn't painful because of the heavy, dirty rag under them. What is clear though is a series of events unfolding in proper order.

Anna's on top of her, a malicious grin splashed over a bright happy face. On the way to tackling her, the crate had fallen over, releasing its precious cargo to jostle, bounce, and roll _everywhere_. Everywhere just happens to be the vicinity of the two sisters.

The redhead starts it, holds her waist in place with muscular legs, grabs a couple balloons still in motion, and pops them right over her head. Reflex saves her just a tiny bit, her eyes shutting automatically and her arms flailing in the direction of her head, but the cold liquid splashes all over her face and hair regardless, and she knows…it's war…and in war, you can cheat to win.

The acrylic smell is heavy around them, but it seems she's finally gotten used to it. She swipes a forearm just once to her face, more notably her eyes so she can open them, sees an overjoyed redhead atop her, and as her smirk lands on her face, her fingers curl and dig mercilessly into an exposed rib cage.

The indignant yelp that follows her action makes her giggle, the vice grip on her waist all but a memory. She scrambles up, pushes the smaller girl onto her back where three pops from balloons sitting innocently on the ground burst out from the contact, an array of colors bleeding in their place, blossoming out like an over the top bullet wound. Murder scene of a unicorn…

She doesn't stop the assault, finding ticklish spots rather easily (they haven't changed), and as soon as the smaller girl's breaths hitch and become near impossible to drag in, she pulls the hoody down, grabs the two closest balloons, and pop them right on top of Anna's forehead, dandelion yellow seeping on her face, hair…everywhere…and the once redhead, but now ugly blonde, is still much too busy trying to catch her breath to fight back.

Laughter and mirth rolls off the blonde in waves, the fight leaving her and she joins her sister in the ground not long after, the wetness and stickiness gluing on her person not bothering her because it stopped mattering long ago.

"You…fight…dirty…" Anna says in between gulps, causing her mirth to double.

"You started it."

"You could've been the mature one and ended it," the smaller girl quips when she finally has all her faculties back.

"Jerks don't end fights. They win them."

"And brats always ensure a payback."

"Looking forward to it."

They share fake feral grins before uncontrollable laughter sweeps them, and Elsa can't find the words to properly thank the smaller girl for sharing this with her. It may seem small. It may seem immature. It's definitely messy. But more than anything else, it feels like a silver lining dotting heavy and endless rain clouds. It gives her thoughts of hopes and possibilities. They can smile again. They're can laugh out loud. They can be happy…or at least attempt it.

This is what their parents would have wanted.

Her hand reaches for her sister's blindly, finds it, holds it like a lifeline, and their grips are so alike in strength and firmness that it leaves a palpable warmth in her chest she can't describe.

The high sun is glinting off of one of the grimy windows, its rays fighting hard enough to shine through and it wins this particular afternoon. Auburn locks glint beautifully even amongst the dirty paint now seeping in every strand of hair, giving the younger girl such a youthful, ethereal glow that it forces stutter breaths out of the Elsa's lungs.

The smile. The one she's fighting tooth and nail to bring back is there, present and accounted for, and although she knows it might disappear, the fact that she caught it, sees it with her own eyes, gives her hope that she's not fighting a losing battle.

In the swathe of the bright sun, Anna looks happy, content, carefree…so achingly beautiful with that stress-free, creaseless visage, that Elsa, for the countless time this day alone, looks away, chides her racing heart, and squashes the emotions that feel as if they're wanting to burst from the seams.

She sits up, but keeps a firm grip on her sister's hand, allowing her eyes to gaze back at green-blues following her own.

"Let's get you cleaned up sunflower."

She means it as a joke, but it comes out too soft, the words ending up sounding like a term of endearment. She doesn't take it back because she's pulled into a rough, bone crushing hug a second later, and even though her face is smeared with fresh dandelion yellow paint from perpetually messy copper strands, she embraces the smaller girl just as tightly.

"I love you Elsa."

The soft, muffled voice rocks her to the core, and she finds she can't do more than hug the other girl even harder, white knuckled hands seeping through the see-through latex gloves as she grips on a wet, disheveled, and grimy bodysuit.

"Come what may…Don't forget that, okay?"

She can only nod, her rushing heart beating painfully against her ears and affecting her immovable extremities. Words are useless. They've left her a long time ago. But then again eloquence has no place in the presence of her sister.

Words are hard to come by when air is even rarer.

AN: What do you mean nothing happens in this chapter? You're absolutely right. I'll try to post the next chappy asap!

Tripower: You shouldn't worry about not being able to review. I don't expect it from anyone :P The story's pace is slow enough as it is…Elsa keeping her secret for ten chapters seems difficult haha. Nostalgia of pillow talk? Please elaborate.

Volchise: Don't be super excited about anything. You'll end up being super let down.

Shadowfax321: You know, I'm sure my brain wanted Anna to throw a conniption fit…but she honestly didn't want to be written that way. I dunno, her persona in general (in canon and also fandom) seems so forgiving, especially in regards to Elsa. It's hard to get her angry enough to warrant an absolutely torn relationship without ruining characterization. Elsa on the other hand…seems more likely.

xo-j-e-i-j-a-h-xo: Man…logging in with that user name must be a pain especially if you don't have the remember me button clicked haha. Fluff? Probably not in the form that people like. I guess it's kind of fluffy…that ending. This feels like a filler chapter (I hate filler chapters…but they're a necessary evil). I hope people don't expect them to start tearing each other's clothes just because Elsa's dirty laundry has been aired…cuz you will be disappointed…I kid you not.

Hei-Feng: Glad you're enjoying the fic thus far and thank you for a positive review. Hope you enjoy this one, even though nothing much happens.

FrozenFanatic: The feels is what keeps this fandom going methinks.

Icy-Windbreeze: Brimming emotions…again with the feels!

McHaudegen: :) Thanks for taking the time to read it. Your compliments are noted and appreciated probably much more than you think is necessary.

barbara: I think realism in any story is a part of good storytelling, but maybe it's just me. As for their future relationship, as this chapter probably tells you, they're not…together. We'll delve into it next chapter with Anna's POV (probably, I haven't written it yet but it's there in the surface of my mind). It's not because I mean to drag it. I honestly don't get the fics with the premise of Anna finding out and they're taking each other's clothes off in the next scene. Not to say it's a bad premise…just not something I can picture properly, especially if Anna doesn't feel the same way as Elsa. She'll have some soul-searching to do first before any tangible relationship becomes apparent…hopefully in the near future/chapter. As for reviews…I am one of those readers that don't review. Not that I never do…I think I did before, but now I'm too lazy even though the fic is worth reviewing. Even favoriting or following. I never do that stuff. I bookmark it. So simple. Because of this, I honestly don't expect anyone to ever review when I post a chapter. Labeling your own self a hypocrite never really feels good :P But when you do take the time out to say a few choice words, a comment, or even some critique, I'll answer…it's the least I can do…which is why these "one-sided convos" as I've termed them, have come to be. Thank you for the review :)


	7. Chapter Seven: Decisions

Chapter Seven: Decisions

The heavy smell of paint is everywhere, dripping across her face from her hair and, to her chagrin, is finding its way into her once white bodysuit. She wonders briefly how hard clean up will be, and more importantly if she'll get the smell and paint out of her hair. From her peripherals, she sees that the once platinum blonde locks have turned a questionable color combination of scarlet and taupe.

"I look like a dirty whore…"

The words come out before she can think them through, and the peal of laughter bursting from her little sister makes her backtrack.

"A literal…dirty whore."

"Elsa, whatever you're planning on adding, it's not going to make it better."

She sighs at the amused grin Anna's throwing her way and reaches up to attempt to wring some yellowish paint off of copper locks.

"Tell me this is non-toxic?"

"Course…" the smaller girl just says with a dismissive wave. "It should come out easily if we don't let it dry out. Come."

She follows the redhead to the edge of the rag quarantined area, mimicking her in removing the bodysuit and using it to wring as much of the paint from their hairs as possible. The smaller girl throws it in the veritable pile of unspeakable wet goo in the middle of the floor and she does the same, following her shortly after towards the ladder.

She makes it a point not to look up as they begin their ascension. The removal of the bodysuit has ensured the return of the sinful motorcycle trousers. One more reminder that she has a lewd face and it's bound to stick as a permanent inside joke.

It doesn't take very long to get to the second story, the ladder only ten or so feet up from the ground. Grasping a railing that surrounds the opening, the blonde pulls herself fully into the room before assessing her surroundings, the first thing she sees jump starting her heart.

Her eyes flitter at her sister's unsure countenance before setting back at the mosaic art work taking up the entire north wall.

_"__Ahh, you're the muse."_

Jenna's words resound in her head. It didn't make sense then, but now it does.

"I hope it's not too weird…"

Anna's voice is riddled with anxiety and worry, but why should she be?

The taller girl moves closer to the wall, curious fingers grazing small inch by inch overlapping photographs (there's at least a thousand) all showing random and different pictures, but if the observer would just step five, six feet away, the main picture…is of her, eyes closed, serene, and asleep. A photo mosaic.

The backdrop is a pretty ocean blue—shades of dark and light mingling as a border and creating an aura around the entire picture. She's curled in an almost circular fetal position, hair unbraided and splayed majestically everywhere, some strands rebelliously surpassing the border. Her right hand is curled beneath her head as a makeshift pillow, the other pressed against her chest. Donning her curved figure is a simple white, loose sleeveless tank, riding a bit high and exposing a firm, alabaster stomach, and black short shorts, a glaring contrast to smooth curled legs and exposed dainty feet.

It's the first time Elsa is given an unadulterated perspective of her sister's view on her. It's the first time she's ever felt…beautiful. Not in the superficial way people have commented her or what she thinks others may see outwardly when she looks in the mirror. This is so much more private, exposing her in a way no one could ever achieve.

Not to mention the time—the energy spent. It seems so unfathomable.

Slack jawed, it's almost impossible to drag her eyes away from the art piece, but she manages, and she's confused at the look of anxiety and worry coating over her sister's face. Green-blue eyes are deferred to the floor, teeth worrying a bottom lip, and the couple of strides it takes to get to the redhead is swallowed easily.

Anna's face is hot under her fingertips, the yellow paint caking such a majority of her countenance that it's difficult to see the smatter of freckles let alone a riding blush.

"Sorry if it's weird."

And it's that word again. With that voice.

The sigh that releases from Elsa's lips is loud and reverberates between them. At least it causes the smaller girl's attention on her, and she wants to wipe the humility and consternation so easily shown by an expressive, open face.

"What are we going to do to get rid of that word from your vocabulary?"

It takes a moment for the younger girl to understand her, and the indignant pout that flashes on her countenance is almost comical. "This and that have _nothing_ to do with each other."

The blonde gives a thoughtful look. "Maybe we should treat it as a swear word. And every time it's uttered, there'll be a penalty."

She laughs at the look of horror flitting up her sister's face and squeezes pinchable cheeks. "Why are you sorry?"

"I…well…" Anna stutters, floundering for the proper words. Green-blue eyes avert, landing on the innumerable photos and art work of her own creation. "It's…it's weird, right?"

Elsa shakes her head resolutely. "I think it's wonderful."

A sheepish smile flashes upon the redhead's visage. "It helps that the subject is exceptionally beautiful."

The older girl wonders if the colors painting her own face is thick enough to hide the blush currently riding from her neck. She combs her fingers through wet sticky hair and tugs the smaller girl to her again. It didn't matter that they didn't have the protective suit on anymore, the need to hug her supersedes everything else.

"You're making it extremely difficult to suppress my feelings for you…I hope you understand that."

The outward confession, even though it's boldly pronounced still steals the air from her lungs, and just like all the other times such a thing comes out of her lips, she can't look into Anna's eyes, still too afraid of what she'll find there.

"And if I tell you, you don't have to?"

Shivers wrack her frame, forcing her to hold the smaller girl tighter. The possibilities blossom in her mind, each one more promising than the last, and she squelches it with a heavy gulp and deep breath. The smell of paint still lingers pronouncedly around them, her own fingers and face stained in dandelion yellow.

It takes all of her willpower to step back and grab Anna's shoulders, warm freckled arms smudged in rainbow splatters. She can feel her strained smile, but keeps it up regardless of the worry it produces from the younger girl upon seeing it.

"Let's get cleaned up?"

Her words produce confusion, the redhead's mouth opening but no words coming out. Elsa forces her head to the right side of the room towards a black curtain. A darkroom? Would make sense…Straight ahead is a semi-closed door, the corner of what looks to be a tub confirming all she needs to know.

She steers her sister to that direction, willing the lump in her throat to recede and for her hopes to dissipate with it.

The bathroom is small and, just like the rest of the studio, seems to only have use in mind rather than aesthetics—mind boggling considering the tenant's artistic talent, but maybe interior design was just not in the list of important things for the smaller girl. A claw foot porcelain bathtub is tucked in the left side of the room, the shower head haphazardly strewn on the floor of it.

"You first," Anna says simply, picking up the shower head, and turning on the water, jets sputtering out of it momentarily. "And yes, Elsa, I'm going to help you. No, you don't have to take off your clothes, but keep in mind that if you do, I'm _still_ going to help you. Get a towel and when you're ready, kneel on the rug and over the tub."

Her straightforwardness is a bit unexpected, leaving the blonde speechless for a moment before complying to all the directions silently.

"You should take off the camisole too. Make sure we get you nice and clean."

She sends an icy glare at an unrepentant grin, kneeling at the edge of the tub and carding her hair so that it falls over her shoulder and eyeing at the colorful gunk imbedded in the strands through her peripherals.

"You're sure this is something I can't do by myself?" she asks fruitlessly, slinging the navy blue towel over her shoulder and watching her sister scoot closer to her with the shower head in hand, dainty artist's hands testing the temperature of the water every few seconds.

The redhead merely grins unapologetically. "Can you see the back of your head?" is the sarcastic retort, and then, "You know, the sooner you get done, the sooner it can be my turn, and I know how much you like touching my hair."

Elsa can only sigh outwardly, the top of her stomach nestled none too comfortably on the tub's top exterior. "Of all the things that would happen upon you finding out, your reactions thus far have been jarringly opposite of my expectations."

She shut her eyes close just as Anna's fingers tangle through her hair, the caress on her scalp shiver inducing. The warm stream of water joins soon after and she keeps a tight hold on the towel to make sure the trickles don't end up on her clothes, the majority of sounds drowned out by the splashes against her ears.

"Hmm," she hears the redhead sound out. "What were your expectations?"

Her jaw locks, teeth nipping at the insides of her mouth.

It turns out to be a rhetorical question though because her sister continues undeterred, "That I'll run away screaming to the next major city?"

"Sounds right," she replies in reflex, voice rough and grainy. She tries to focus on the feel of soft hands folding over her hair, scratching her scalp, rubbing her face, but the noise surrounding her can't drown out the impending sigh.

"So silly…"

Her heart jumps at the small admonishment.

"Do you still need reassurance?"

She opens her eyes regardless of the stinging the water causes, her gaze at the swirling of colors fusing against white porcelain and her grip tightening on the towel grasped in her fists.

Her running mind jumps the gun, ignores the question, and instead addresses the topic plaguing her thoughts. "Why is that?"

"Hold."

The shower head handle is shoved near her face, her left hand grabbing it in reflex and pointing it away, towards the splatter of paints around the tub and inadvertently cleaning it. The firm hands stop their ministrations, a familiar fruity, flowery smell emitting around her momentarily. She shifts her knees, seeking comfort from the worn rug just as meticulous fingers return, curling around the back of her ears and massaging the back of her scalp.

The need to purr is powerful, her train of thought derailing so much that she almost misses her sister's reply to an already forgotten question.

"I don't have an answer to the 'whys'," Anna says softly, and the blonde wouldn't be able to hear her if she wasn't so close—mere inches from her face. Her eyes are forced to close when stray suds begin slithering down her forehead and she has to perk her ears to catch the rest. "If I was told this a few years ago…maybe my reaction would be different. If mom and dad hadn't…" She pauses, and Elsa can feel her fingers shaking before the ministrations continue. "All I know is I don't want to lose you again. I'm still afraid _I'll_ do something to make you leave. And I know you said you that you won't, but it's an insecurity that probably won't disappear anytime soon."

The honest answer leaves her silent, stewing in the familiar abyss that is guilt as Anna continues massaging the shampoo into her hair.

"Your guilt face is on by the way."

"I know…" she replies quickly, the creases in her face doubling. "I can't help it."

"Should we have penalty rules for that too?"

"That's hardly fair with an expression." She pauses, and then shrugs, "But to be honest, I don't think I deserve fair play."

"I didn't think it was possible, but now it's seeping in your words. That deserves an even bigger penalty."

"Stop making things up as you go along."

She can feel the younger girl grin just from her tone of voice. "You're making dinner."

"You sure you're not setting yourself up on that penalty call?"

"I'm sure anything you can conjure is better than anything I can microwave. Shower handle, please."

She relinquished it to a ready hand, eyes shutting further as the water comes cascading back down the top of her head. The flowery smell flutters around them, the pitter pattering of rushing water drowning out everything else.

Anna washes the rest of the suds out in silence, the blonde still mindful of the towel, but more than that, their current topic of conversation. There's one that she has to open up…one that'll lead into an inevitable heartbreak, but also unavoidable.

"Conditioner?"

She shakes her head, pulling the towel up and over her drenched hair. An inadvertent sniff to strands dancing around her face ensured that Anna had done a thorough job—the colors, and more importantly, the smell has dissipated, replaced by a much more favorable one. She stands up from her position, thankful of getting off her now throbbing knees and looks down, catching her sister looking up at her.

Her mouth dries automatically from mere perspective, despite the yellow gunk splattered everywhere on the smaller girl. If anything, it adds to the charm. The hot day, regardless of the now air conditioned room, has slick sweat shimmering through freckled skin, the bright red camisole, dirty from their previous activity, hugging curves and sending her to rub the towel firmly through her face to rid her eyes of the sight already imbedded into the back of her lids.

And those motorcycle trousers will still be the death of her…

"Your turn," she says momentarily, running fingers through damp platinum locks.

The smaller girl nods, fingers pulling strands to her peripherals and giving a faux disgusted look at what she sees. "I don't make a very good blonde…" she says funnily, getting up and placing the still running shower head in its clip.

Elsa can't help the tiny snicker that leaves her mouth, moving away from the foot of the tub and eyeing her sister as she grabs a towel for herself, wraps it on her shoulders alike how the blonde had done so, and kneels in the same spot.

The taller girl gets to work quickly, sitting on the side of the tub after grabbing the shower head and carding her fingers through the yellow gunk in copper strands, meticulous in making sure none of it stays in an otherwise clean scalp. Unlike her own ablutions, they maintain a comfortable silence, Anna's fingers helping her in the quest of removing all the paint out of the smaller girl's hair as she nitpicks areas that seem hardest to remove. She asks the, once again, redhead to hold the shower head in the same manner as she was asked prior and squeezes a healthy amount of fruity shampoo in an open palm, painstakingly massaging the growing white suds into every strand of hair.

She loves the domesticated feeling this small chore incites. She hardly feels that it's a chore, moreover a reminder of when they were kids and would share a tub for baths. Anna, as a rambunctious six year old, hated baths. More than anything, she abhorred sitting still for prolonged periods and although their mom would be able to gather her attention with some toys, the novelty usually didn't last very long. She quickly found out that the younger girl was more willing to stay still and behave when Elsa would join in too, quests for building soapy sudsy snowmen and long adventures of a precocious rubber ducky aptly named Ducky (six year olds aren't known for originality) taking up enough time and attention that Helene would be able to get them cleaned up without needing a random maid's help.

Elsa misses those days colored by bright innocence. A time when she didn't look at her sister and question her feelings—she was merely a role model with the task of being an older sister to a vivacious, often hyper little girl.

For the millionth time, she wished her feelings had never changed—contorted in this vile corruption now plaguing her every waking thoughts.

The inward sigh is followed by a rough swallow of a familiar lump, her hand taking the shower head from the surprisingly still silent girl.

"Conditioner?" she asks, similarly as it was done to her, and Anna answers the same way.

"I wanna go to the farmer's market before they close…so you can make me dinner."

Elsa chuckles at the bratty reply, pointing the shower head towards an unsuspecting face and getting the younger girl's towel swatted at her direction for her misdemeanor in retaliation.

"Such a lovable brat," she says, her voice soft and laced in such adoration both of them know it's more of an endearment than chastise.

Anna laughs with her, moving her head around to ensure the blonde gets every nook and cranny of the suds and any remaining paint particles that might've been missed. She reaches for the knob soon after, turning it off with a twist before hanging the shower head up in its proper place. When she turns around, the redhead is already standing, eyes closed tightly as the towel is used roughly and vigorously to dry every wet spot. She helps the younger girl with her own towel, rubbing at spots in her arms and receiving a thankful, easy smile she can't help but return.

It takes another ten minutes to go through Anna's closet to find tops for them both to replace the ones they're wearing, and to Elsa's palpable relief, the younger girl takes out an above the knee black flared skirt as a substitute for the sinful motorcycle trousers.

"You're going to have to get used to me in these by the way," the redhead says with a knowing smile, taking her change of clothes with her and shutting the bathroom door so that they both have an amount of privacy while they changed.

The sudden blush that rises all the way to her forehead from being caught so easily doesn't help matters, and unfortunately for her, a fast acting quip is just as unavailable.

"Although it surprises me how easily riled up you are about something like skin tight biker suits."

She dagger stares the closed door and the muffled, mildly amused voice beyond it.

"I wonder what's the perfect combination though…" the younger girl continues, unhindered. "Maybe wearing a full body biker suit, no other clothes inside, showing a generous amount of cleavage, straddling my bike, and biting my lip, all simultaneously."

Out of sheer reflex, she kicks the closed door with the heel of her foot, raucous laughter trailing her action from the other side.

"Do you want to get molested? Because that's how you get molested," she growls loudly, her automatic retort face-palm inducing.

The laughter doubles in strength, noise, and length, and an indignant sigh to herself is all she's able to produce. She'd never cursed her brain at easily drawing mental images before (it's been an asset in architecture school to put what's in her mind to paper more than anything), but at this present moment, she's only glad it's not something that can be outwardly projected. If that scenario ever comes to life, she'd die. No question about it. A stroke. A heart attack. Blood loss from an incessantly bleeding nose…The combination of all three happening at once is also pretty likely.

She shakes her head roughly, sending the mental image to scatter and pulls her camisole off, replacing it with a fitted, striped cap-sleeve knit wool top with gray and black stripes racing in horizontal patterns across its surface. It matches well with her trousers, and she's mildly impressed that Anna could just go through her closet and pick it out of the many choices seemingly at random.

"You decent?"

The knob of the bathroom door is in mid-turn as she replies in the positive, her sister looking dashing in her change of clothes as soon as it opens: a black flared skirt and a white, black, and gray jersey tiered top. She's not sure if the smaller girl had made them match on purpose, but is inwardly pleased at the small fact regardless.

"Braid my hair. I'll do yours after."

She's given a pink hairbrush just as the redhead turns around expectantly, and she brushes the drying strands first before dutifully braiding them in twin plaits. After she's done, Anna returns the favor, meticulously putting hers in the familiar single braid she's worn ever since they had learned how to do this one thing together. Again, it's another activity that reminds her solely of their childhood innocence…she just hoped it wouldn't be another tainted one.

"I really need to do a better job at getting you out of that mind of yours."

The younger girl's open declaration takes her aback. She didn't realize she was making it so obvious.

As if reading her mind, Anna gives a lopsided smile, reaches outwardly, and rubs a part of her forehead with soft fingers. "Your eyes get this faraway look. But more than that, there's this constant notch, right here." An index finger rubs circular motions on a particular spot, and she knows it's setting even deeper because of the inadvertent frown the caress produces. The younger girl merely grins wider at her, the youthful face seizing her heart completely. Her hand is taken into warm, strong ones without preamble, Anna dragging her back towards the ladder.

"Come on. I'm hungry…and you owe me dinner."

"You have to consider that you said 'sorry'. The fact that I had a guilty face/expression/voice should offset the penalty. If anything, they cancel each other out."

She receives a dismissive wave. "My 'sorry' had nothing to do with our arrangement, if you're so disinclined to remember. Your guilt did. And seriously…if you force me to cook, we'll probably get food poisoning from it. I say take the penalty and learn to deal with it."

She knows a sound argument when she hears it, so Elsa decides to just let this particular argument go.

O—O

"Gah…how are you so good at _everything_!" Anna exclaims, watching her actions from a stool placed conveniently in front of the kitchen counter she's prepping their meal on.

Elsa merely shrugs, turning the food processor on and grinding fresh basil leaves, a couple cloves of garlic, parmesan cheese, and already chopped pine nuts together, olive oil being added intermittently as the gadget whines loudly between them.

"Living alone invites adaptability," she says easily, pouring the rest of the olive oil in and adding salt and pepper to taste until the pesto basil sauce is seasoned to her liking. "Eating take out gets tiring after a while…and I found rather quickly that cooking can be kind of therapeutical."

She pulls the cord off of the outlet, opens the processor and dips a pinky finger in, tasting the sauce and nodding once in approval as her taste buds give an all around approval.

"Let me taste." She turns to find a spoon, jogging her memory on which random drawer to pull before looking up to see her sister rolling her eyes petulantly. "Dip another finger in and let me taste from that…"

The blonde merely gives the mischievous girl a deadpan stare. "Or…you can dip your own finger in…and taste from that."

"Didn't wash my hands. I thought I made it abundantly clear that I might poison our food from mere touch?"

Elsa's the one to roll her eyes this time, wiping damp hands into a colorful, every-fabric-under-the-sun, definitely-made-from-scratch-by-her-little-sister, apron currently tied to her waist.

When she wouldn't budge on the subject matter, she gets a pink tongue darted out impetuously. "Prude."

"Troublemaker," she retorts just as quickly, turns to inspect the boiling water sitting on the stovetop and adding some salt to help it along.

The farmer's market had lovely marbled king salmon on sale so the decision for what would be a relatively early dinner was practically decided upon seeing it. Anna had also wanted a summer berry salad so Elsa had obliged the small request, buying romaine lettuce, cherry tomatoes, baby spinach, gorgonzola cheese, blueberries, candied walnuts, strawberries, and a sweet homemade raspberry vinaigrette they had sampled at one of the booths.

"Wash your hands and help me prep," she says with a nod of her head towards the sink, Anna ambling from her comfortable stool with a look of semi-excitement. "Find me a bowl for the salad too please."

The smaller girl comes back with a glass bowl complete with plastic salad tongs, tying another homemade apron tightly around her waist and looking at the items splayed all over the counter expectantly.

"Wash the lettuce then rip them off in bitable chunks on the bowl," she instructed, ripping the bag of strawberries and blueberries and placing them in a colander to wash off as well.

They set to work silently, the sound of running water going off every now and again to wash any item that needs cleaning. As the sound of greens being ripped apart fills the air (she finds it cute that Anna does it one leaf at a time instead of a bunch and with heavy concentration added), the pot of hot water begins boiling and she busies herself by adding some oil first and then the angel hair pasta thereafter.

She heats up another stovetop and places a hanging non-stick pan atop it, drizzling some oil in as she unravels the salmon filet from its wax paper confines. She cuts it in two even vertical cuts, kosher salt and freshly grounded pepper added to taste on each side and testing the temperature on the pan before placing them gingerly inside, the sharp sear sizzling through the air momentarily.

A pair of strong arms are suddenly wrapped around her waist, Anna's chin placed gingerly on her left shoulder and she feels her body stiffen at the action at first before relaxing. Heat blossoms evenly in her chest and she can't help but feel a bit of pride at seeing a look of wonder given easily by the smaller girl.

"I'd like to take this small time to tell you that you are amazing."

Laughter bubbles at her chest, her head leaning towards her sister's. "Have you ever told the chef at the estate he's amazing? I'm sure he does far more than I have and with more talent," she jibes easily, grabbing a spatula and twirling it in her hand absentmindedly.

"I'll tell him he's amazing when he's able to draw blueprints for a building if I ask for it."

"Dork," is the easy admonition. "Are you done with the lettuce?"

"Yes."

"Then start with the spinach. After that if you feel comfortable handling a knife, you can cut the strawberries in vertical slices too."

"Show me."

The blonde inspects the salmon first, makes sure the heat is not so high so that it cooks evenly without drying out, washes her hands again, and picks up a strawberry from the colander, dragging her sister who refuses to let go of her across the entirety of the kitchen in the process.

She uses the backside of the cutting board she had used previously for smashing the garlic, eyeing her sister pointedly to pay close attention as she takes a paring knife, cuts off the bottom of the strawberry, stands it upright, and cuts vertically, red succulent flesh bleeding out onto the white plastic cutting board.

She picks one of the middle pieces with dainty fingers, placing it in a ready mouth and loving the look of pleasure and happiness such a small thing can incite on her sister's face. The arms around her waist tightens as a show of thanks before unravelling and hip bumping her out of the station so the younger girl can begin the chore assigned to her.

Another fifteen minutes and they're nearly done, Elsa's clear instructions on the preparation of the rest of the salad taken easily by a ready and willing ear while the blonde busies herself with the last remaining touches of their pesto salmon pasta dish.

"Let's eat in the rooftop," Anna states simply, adding the last of the gorgonzola cheese in the salad. It's prepared in levels: lettuce layering the very bottom followed by the spinach, sliced strawberries, blueberries, cherry tomatoes, candied walnuts, and lastly the cheese, the vinaigrette bottle ready and waiting at its side.

"A bit hard to lug all the food up the ladder," is Elsa's reply, but it looks like the redhead was expecting it.

She gives the blonde an infectious grin before striding to the wall and opening up what looks like a big cupboard, revealing instead a homemade pulley system complete with a crank and enough room for miscellaneous items in its dank and dark opening.

It leaves Elsa a bit speechless. "That's…pfft, _'I'm amazing'_…" she says mockingly. "Then what does that make you?"

A flash of white, even teeth sparkle at her. "A genius."

"Indeed," she nods. "I wholeheartedly agree."

It doesn't take long to put the food inside it, the blonde making sure they have everything required for their meal so that neither of them would need to go back down the ladder when they do get to the rooftop. When she's double checked, even triple checked to her sister's loud groan, that everything is set, she pulls at the crank experimentally and watch in glee as the base of the pulley moves ever so slightly.

"It's so primitive…but so cool at the same time…" she breathes in wonderment, sharing a grin with a proud sister, and doubles her effort at rolling the crank. They both watch as it ascends, a taut _creak creak_ from ropes and friction the only sound between them, until it finally refuses to budge.

"Lock it here," Anna directs, leaning in to pull the ropes and ensuring the locking mechanism is clipped in place. "Wouldn't want it all to avalanche down, right?"

"We'll just have to starve," Elsa says with a simple, carefree shrug.

"No way. I worked hard on that salad…We'll have to eat it right off of the pulley…even though I use this to haul the paint rag and we'll probably get sick from all the dirt and miscellaneous crap that's imbedded in the wood."

"No, we wouldn't want that. What is it with you and the threat of impending food poisoning?"

"So you can never say I didn't warn you."

She follows the smaller girl out of the kitchen and again up the ladder. Upon her first entry to the bedroom, she hadn't noticed a path to the rooftop, but her inward query is answered when Anna pulls the black curtains aside to the darkroom and motions for the older girl to follow, a side door neatly tucked at a corner and revealing a stairwell that leads to one more door that apparently takes them to the rooftop.

"I don't want to sound uncouth, but the more of your studio you let me see, the more I get the feeling that it's a really nice place to bed people."

"Hah!" Anna cackles, head thrown back in mirth as she opens the door and a wave of heat blasts them from the outside. Traffic noise flitters in the backdrop, loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough to not be an obstruction to conversation. "I'd sooner take them to a hotel…"

They make their way to a cubby, the redhead opening it to reveal their food, unscathed from the ascent. While Elsa takes care to set it on a glass table situated in the middle of the otherwise normal rooftop, Anna plays around with the umbrella attached to the table to get some much needed shade. The longer days invite the mid-day sun, well on its way to descending, but still having a few more hours until its destination, leaving heat to stifle in waves on tar, cement— any surface prone to prolonged exposure.

It doesn't take long to set up, and within minutes, they're both sitting down, the city's buildings towering over them and squelching much of the view, but neither caring enough for it.

"Want my honesty on the matter?"

The blonde picks up the bottle of vinaigrette and pours it over the berry salad, using the tongs after to mix it up evenly. "I would hope so, but if you feel the need to lie about it maybe we can just act like I didn't ask?"

Anna merely shrugs, watching her actions as she takes a bowl for each of them and deposits an even amount of the salad in each one. "I can't even masturbate in my bedroom…feels wrong somehow."

Choking on your own spit is never a good sensation, and the blonde is reminded of this heavily when she swallowed an accumulation of it at the wrong time. She coughs in sputters, throat and lungs berating her simultaneously while her sister's laughter rings in her ears unapologetically. She throws the redhead a glare that the other just chuckles dismissively.

"Gosh Elsa…immature much?"

"Really? You're the one talking about masturbation like an easy topic and _I'm_ the immature one?"

"You choked on your own spit from the prospect—

"Regardless, Anna…I think maybe we should have boundaries for what we can and can't say to each other."

"Masturbation's a hard limit for you?"

The blonde can feel her cheeks heating in despair. She all, but throws the salad bowl to her sister's direction, the smaller girl's fast reflexes catching it before it can fall off the table and causing further raucous laughter at the redhead's end. She sighs unappreciatively and plops down on the outdoor chair, pulling the salad bowl she had made for herself in her direction and digging in without further words, trying with all her might to ignore the aftershocks of mirth still dispelling from the girl next to her.

"Alright, alright," Anna mollifies, spearing a few blueberries with an eager fork and popping them in her mouth. "Other than you and mom…there's only been one girl who's ever been in here, and definitely not for the reason you're thinking."

Elsa eyes the redhead from her peripherals, chewing on lettuce while listening attentively. "Jenna."

"J—how the hell…"

She smirks at the mixed look of wonder and suspicion gracing her sister's face.

"When I first met her," the blonde explains, smearing some of the leaves onto the bowl to get more of the vinaigrette consolidated in its edges. "She says I was the muse. Didn't make sense until I saw the photo mosaic."

The smaller girl nods in dawned understanding. "Yeah…she saw it once…I left my wallet here, had to go back and get it, and she just happened to be with me at the time." She shrugs once before putting more of the salad in her mouth. "I dunno," she continues mid-chew. "That mosaic of you is the first thing I made when I got this studio. It literally took…maybe six months? More? I didn't really count. But it was the only thing that had kept me distracted while engaged enough to finish without starting anything else up."

The sound of clinking plates and utensils fill the air between eating and explanation, at times drowned by a too loud crow or a blaring horn.

"You can probably tell, but I get art ADD…I start a canvas, then it bores me so I have to do some clay work. When that gets old, I do some glass or pastel…then go back to the canvas or start a new one. But the one with you…it holds a special meaning to me…and I don't think it's just because the muse was you, although that's a big part of it. Maybe moreover its representation."

Elsa maintains her silence as Anna keeps explaining, seemingly in a world of her own. It's nothing that she's ever said aloud, but she loves these moments of introspection—loves being shown a world or point of view only her sister can explain.

"There was a point in time in which I forced myself to stop thinking about you," the redhead mumbles, eyes locked on her plate and pushing a cherry tomato around unconsciously. The small confession halts Elsa's breathing for a millisecond only to start up again when the younger girl does so as well. "Go on, so to speak. I made friends. Went out a lot. Tried to be social, especially when I started college. And…it was alright. Couldn't say it wasn't fun, because it was, but…there was never any sense of…fulfillment. Like…just like after sophomore year…it felt like that. Like living one day at a time. I didn't do any of the bad stuff, except maybe use a fake ID to get in clubs with some older classmates, but that's the extent of it. But as I said, I never felt very content. In the end, it all felt meaningless.

"I think mom and dad could see it. It's always felt like they always bought me things to compensate for my long bouts of despondency. It's not a bad thing. It doesn't mean they didn't try to talk to me. They did and those talks brought about decisions." Anna pauses, seemingly thinking about about the topic in another way before the blonde can see her dismiss the thought with a blink and shake of her head. "Nearing my twentieth birthday, they noticed that art wasn't just a passing fancy, figured I wanted a place for my own—a place with no intrusions, distractions, and the like, so they took turns shopping for a place with me." Her eyes light up in a mix of wonderment and absurdity at a flashback Elsa can't see, but she smiles at seeing the expression on the younger girl's face regardless. "All the other places were so posh and expensive…it was kind of ridiculous. Like…so _clean _that I would probably feel guilty even just accidentally dropping a dollop of paint on the floor, so of course none of them were good enough because all of them were too good…if that makes any sense." She waves a hand dismissively, eliciting a chuckle from the blonde's end. "Anyway I was just cruising around one day and I found this place. Saw that it was in the market and just…made the decision by myself. Of course mom and dad were both iffy about it, like all my other bad decisions, but like with all the other ones they relented in the end. The easiest explanation is…it feels like here, I can be…myself. I feel grounded, yet free. Unrestricted, but tethered.

"It reminded me of how I felt back when you used to be around."

They've both stopped eating, Elsa's attention rapt to her sister who's blue-green eyes are staring at her salad bowl, seeing something the older girl can't.

"After that it was as if I was in a trance. Like, I have to put this feeling into something tangible. And I knew that if I were to start anything, I have to finish it. Nothing else mattered. School kind of mattered. I still tried to do my best academically, but the thought still lingered—always in the forefront—even more paramount than grades…and friends…

"I don't know why I chose the photo mosaic. Probably because it was difficult…and it has to at least be challenging since you were my muse. And of course if it's about you it has to be perfect so…" she trails off, looks up from her plate and the shy smile there steals Elsa's breath. "I can't take girls here…to bed or anything. It reminds me…I don't know why I keep going back to it, but this place reminds me of my freshman year in the school cafeteria. It can be surrounded by noise, and hustle and bustle, but…it can also drown all of that out…and it can be just a place for you and me."

The explanation, coupled with the block in her throat serves to make the blonde speechless. And as expected, the younger girl doesn't make it difficult or awkward. She merely gives an open smile, grabs her plate of pasta, and begins combing the angel hair into the pesto sauce, her expression turning eager and hungry.

"Eat before it gets cold…even though it's hot enough out here to keep the pasta seem like it's just been microwaved," she says with an easy grin.

Anna has always been good at baring her emotions, a complete opposite to the older girl. If she liked something, it's only one exclamation away. The same can be said at the other end of the spectrum. Although it's rare, she'd show her discontent just as easily and with just as much fervor.

Elsa had always had trouble with the emotional aspect of…many things. She'd learned early on to look at the logical perspective of any problem and solve it without vesting any emotion. Emotions are unpredictable, unstable, and most of the time unjustifiable, and those jumbled feelings have no place when it comes to important topics that require precise decisions. She surmises that if she wanted to she'd make an able bodied corporate head with this, almost, clinical way of thinking. It's certainly how she handled high school and came out on top, and the same can be said for college. And because she's seen to every perspective and every conclusion, she's quite aware of all that she's lost as well. Having friends has always been a non-issue. She's never really needed company, opting for the silence of the four walls of her condo than the chatty voices of her peers. She'd been ready for the expected jealousy since day one, and, because of her head start, she'd been ready to be looked down upon because of her age as well. In the end, it's all a part of the plan—just another building block or hurdle to trample over towards inevitable success. With no distractions (the good and the bad kind), it's easy to assimilate herself in the schoolwork, give a hundred percent and nothing less, and come out on top, ruling everything with an iron fist. Before her classmates could notice it, she's number one in her class, effortlessly and without peer. At the praise of her professors, she's inadvertently pushed further up the pedestal and, in essence, further away from the common folk, until the inevitable end result rings in clarity—the same goal she had planned and aimed for at the very start, achieved and looking as if it was done easily and effortlessly.

Anna…is the yin to her yang, apparently. Success, glory, winning—these things don't matter to the smaller girl. If anything, they're unimportant tidbits that come if they have to, but if they don't, it's not a sign of the world ending. She has life plans and aspirations, but it's taken not with the end to justify the means, but with the journey first and foremost. It didn't matter if one decision leads her astray. It's truly one of the things that has drawn the taller girl to her—this infallible ability to trust her heart, seek the answers there, and risk everything if there's even an ounce of chance. There are no conniving schemes, no plans of world domination. Certainly no ice queen persona. On the contrary, it's the exact opposite.

Warm. Vibrant. A life that can lead to endless possibilities, each one riddled with chance, but with the end result of happiness—unadulterated happiness. It makes the taller girl feel as if she hasn't done anything with her life yet. That she had, not only wasted time, but spent it carelessly. Because her future, if she were to give herself a small peek, doesn't show joy, or hope, or anything positive. It merely shows a life of loneliness—still the damsel locked in her ivory tower, only she has the key balled in her hand and is unwilling to open the door and let herself out.

Happiness.

Her own doesn't matter. Not to her. This is a decision that's been made long ago. Anna would refute this decision. The smaller girl would fight 'til her dying breath if it ensures the blonde her own share of happiness, regardless of what that may be. This train of thought leaves her to the bittersweet topic she had been avoiding like a plague.

Because life…continues on. It doesn't wait for you. It doesn't care that your parents just died and you need some sort of reprieve. There is no pause button. It just goes on. And in order for them to get out of this stasis and move on to a path that would make Anna happiest (because that is the end-game goal), they'd need to make the hard decisions now. Not next week. Certainly not next month. But now. The present. And as usual, she'd have to dissect it, to ensure everything goes as planned—old habits are hard to break. Because nothing short of perfect is expected, even now that she knows it can be easier than that.

"Anna."

The smaller girl looks up from her meal, and the worry she sees there sends an inward chastise to herself. It's amazing how well her sister can read her. Just from the tone of her voice, the redhead knew that something's about to transpire…and because it's coming from Elsa's end, it will not be a good thing. The blonde is only glad that they had eaten the vast majority of the food. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she depletes the younger girl's appetite from another meal again.

She decides that sugarcoating it isn't an option. "My finals, thesis, projects…they're all due within a two to six week timeframe."

The shift and trajectory of the conversation is easily understood by the smaller girl, and Elsa bites an outward sigh at the drop of utensils on a half eaten plate.

"I want us both to be realistic for a moment," she continues, pushing her own plate aside, leaning against the squashy patio arm chair, and giving her sister an even look. "We have a month and a half left of school. It makes no sense to stop now—to drop everything and forsake all that we've worked hard for. It's not something that I want to do…but I do have to go back, and the sooner I leave here, the sooner I can return."

The sharp intake of breath she receives upon saying what she needs to say feels like a hollow stab to her chest, and the self-deprecation that rings out in waves makes her feel wretched for even bringing it up. But the logical part of her is adamant that this is the right call, and although she knows it may be painful for the time being, it'll serve a greater purpose in the end.

She can see the pain and hopelessness just from one look in Anna's eyes and it forces her to lean forward and pull the arm chair the other girl is sitting on so that they're facing each other. Squashing the urgent need to hold her sister and promise sweet nothings in a willing ear, she instead locks gazes with turbulent blue-green eyes and run her tongue over her suddenly dry lips.

"I promise you," she says, voice grainy, rough, patchy, and so small that it's only hearable upon strained ears. "It'll be different this time. I…this is not a repeat of five years ago. I'm not running away. On the contrary, this is…this is me trying to do the right thing. And I know it sounds dubious, and it makes zero sense—

"It makes sense…"

She swallows the lump clawing its way up her throat, made even harder by the tone of her sister's voice. Dejected eyes are unable to look back at her, caught in the in-between place of her chin and neck so she reaches out and touches—grasps—suddenly ice cold fingers.

"It's…it's not as if I wasn't aware," the younger girl continues, still keeping her eyes deferred but responding by tightening their hand hold. "I think I like to live in a place of denial—

"Anna, no…"

"But I knew," she states roughly, throat bobbing in a rough swallow. "I knew that you'd have to go back eventually, even though both of us have been saying you'll stay. Because…it's for the best, right?" At this question, turquoise eyes finally meet hers, the expression there somber and dismal, but above all helpless.

It leaves Elsa's determination to scatter in the searing wind, questions, possibilities, options, running in a messy maze in her jumbled mind, wishing for something to stick so that she can have the right answers to make the girl before her happy again. The need to console her is first and foremost, so the taller girl puts her hand up, her countenance pleading, apologetic…guilty.

She might owe the smaller girl another penalty for it.

"Come."

Anna doesn't need more. She almost falls forward from her sudden bout of hastiness, but the blonde catches her, holds her by the waist and pulls so that the smaller girl is on her lap, each one holding the other in a death grip embrace.

Once upon a time, she would've reveled at being in this position—holding the redhead in this manner and every breath taking in the lovely girl's scent. But in this situation, the thought hardly grazes her mind.

She looks up just as Anna moves slightly away, her look wistful and melancholic. Freckled arms maintain their place around her shoulders as the smaller girl releases a soft sigh, her cheek falling atop the older girl's head as fingers nimbly card through her blonde tresses unconsciously.

"Tell me how it'll be different."

Hearing the forlorn voice tightens her hold all the more. She shakes her head inwardly, willing her mind to work in its usual preciseness. "We'll talk, daily. I'll make sure of it…unless of course you don't want to."

She receives a negative reply by a vigorous shake of the head and smiles softly at the automatic answer.

"I'll give you my new number so we can call and text," she plows on, ticking off the checklist in her mind. "My address, just in case you ever need it. I have a Skype. We can talk that way if we're not on the go. Facetime, if all else fails. I'll…I'll do everything that I didn't do before…including waking you up before I leave so you can take me to the airport and say a proper goodbye. I promise to come back. As soon as my studies are over, I'll take the next flight available. I'll speak with my professors about the move so that they can make recommendations and possibly become references for when I seek an internship here. When I come back, I promise I won't leave again. I'll stay for as long as you need me…in whatever way."

She breathes in deeply, Anna's scent strong and familiar and it only serves to pull her deeper into their shared hug. The smaller girl keeps her silence and it drags on to the point where Elsa begins second guessing everything she's said. She runs the options in her mind again, nitpicks through the email her professor has sent for her—that they would make an exception of a couple of days considering her circumstance, but she has to return to finish up in order to get the credits due. Prolonging graduation for another quarter, maybe even two because of class unavailability, is most definitely the worse of the two options. Being gone for a month and a half rather than three or, god forbid, six? The answer is a no-brainer.

Her grip on the other girl's blouse slackens, fingers crawling at the bottom of a smooth spine.

"Please say something."

The prolonged silence hasn't been forgiving.

She looks up, feels the redhead's cheek shift off of the top of her head and she's met with emotion laden eyes, charged with sadness, intensity, and longing—as if she's no longer there and the smaller girl is, again, perpetually alone. Then, they're out of sight, shuttered from the world.

Anna's embrace strengthens, soft, pursed lips, pressed against her forehead. The small gesture is filled to the brim with desperation, and breaks all of her logic into dust.

"I won't leave."

She feels the younger girl shaking her head vigorously in disagreement and it only strengthens her new resolve.

"I'll find a school here. Transfer my credits—

"No…"

"Anna, I can't leave you."

"You can and you will—not you will…but you should."

The trembling of the smaller girl's voice feels like a high magnitude earthquake in her chest, leaving aftershocks that steal her breath and make it difficult to breathe. Strong fingers card at her hair, and she can feel the braid coming undone, but cares little for it.

"I know why it has to be done. I'm just…I'm being immature about it."

Elsa shakes her head in outward refute, but the smaller girl doesn't let her get an edge in word-wise. "You have to finish school. It…you're so close to graduating. I can't take that from you. I have stuff to finish too—projects that are due…end of term exams. I know it's silly to think I don't have to go back, but in the end, we both need to do the responsible adult thing…and face reality. I get it…" She gulps, withdrawing slightly, but only to place her head on the blonde's shoulder, arms coming down to curl around the blonde's waist. "I'm just scared."

The confession drives a nail in Elsa heart. She shuts her eyes in reflex to ward off the onslaught of guilt crashing into her body in waves, her fists bunching the fabric of the other girl's shirt reflexively. "I know," she manages to breathe out. The need to strike herself for doing another unfavorable thing to her sister screams at her mercilessly, but she shoves it away for the time being. She instead leans her head until her cheeks find the solace of copper bangs, the action keeping her mind gravitated. "I do promise that it'll be different Anna. There won't be a day that'll go by that you won't hear from me. You'll…you'll probably get sick of me more than anything."

"Doubtful…" the smaller girl replies without thought—an automatic answer. And then with more conviction, "Never."

She suddenly sits up, her earlier look of melancholy still tracing her youthful face, but to Elsa's utmost relief, there's also a sense of resolve there that was missing before. It gives the taller girl a palpable sense of ease—that things may turn out okay and for the better.

"Six weeks," Anna says softly, green-blue eyes clouding over as she looks down at the blonde from her higher vantage point. "After going through five years it should be cakewalk."

Elsa shakes her head, leaning back into her seat and rubbing the smaller girl's side in an automatic show of consolation. "I don't expect any length of time away from you to be easy," she states clearly, locking eyes with expressive turquoise orbs. "Especially now. Especially because mom and dad are gone and all I have left is you. It's not to say it was easy before. But…this—where we are now, in comparison to where we were less than a week back…

"I have a responsibility to take care of you…in every aspect you and I deem fit. And although our opinions may clash on this one decision, I want to know…do you adhere to it? Do you agree with me? Because I won't leave if you don't want me to. There are…options here—avenues I haven't turned or overlooked in favor of an easier solution. If you don't want me to leave, Anna, I won't. I will make it that simple. I'll start over the quarter here in a different school if I have to, just to ensure your happiness…because that's all I care about. I want you to be happy. If me staying makes you happy, then I'll gladly stay. I may end up becoming too busy to take care of any loose ends, but at least I'll be with you. Tell me what you want…and it shall be done."

She isn't expecting a helpless smile to wash over her sister's visage, but that's exactly what is given to her, followed by an indignant pout of soft lips, and an infinitesimal shake of the head, twin plaits swaying at the small action. "It's hardly fair for you to talk about my happiness, but not yours."

"Mine is inconsequential—

"Funny because I'm happiest when you are so if you're not, then I'm not too. Crazy how it works out that way, huh?"

The retort quirks her lips upward, her left hand coming up to caress a braid. "Then what would you like to see happen?"

Anna looks up and away, her gaze seemingly locked on a random spot in the sky or imposing building. Her arms unwind from the taller girl's waist and retreats between them, grabbing Elsa's hands in its withdrawal and holding them firmly. "I want to see you finish school. Graduate with top honors. If…if you feel the internship opportunities are better over there, I would want you to pursue it—

"No."

"Elsa—

"Six weeks is the allotted time I can take in being separated from you. No more and unfortunately, it can't be less. Now, unless this is a not very well thought out plan to push me away and out of your life, you don't have to scheme. Just tell me and I'll go—

"No, you stop it with that train of thought!"

"But since you're my little sister and you don't scheme to make things happen, I'll just assume you're trying to give me any and all options available—

"I want you to be happy with your decisions too! It can't be all based on me!"

"Then let me put your mind at ease and say that being with you makes me happiest. As you said so adamantly before, there are internship opportunities here. I'm not even sure why we're arguing about it in the first place."

"This isn't an argument…it's a discussion," the smaller girl grumbles. "I don't…I don't want you to wake up one day regretting anything. You already do that enough presently…I don't want to have to deal with it in the future too."

Elsa chuckles at the smart ass remark, but sees the worry laced in the other girl's tone that belies her true intention. Her thumbs pad a smooth skin in the hopes of assuaging the redhead's imminent worry. "There's nothing for me in LA other than loose ends to tie up. Yes, there are internship opportunities, but there are many everywhere. All I have to do is look. Anna, the most important thing to me right now isn't that. To be frank, it's not even school. It's just unfortunate timing that we're both in the last leg of the quarter and more than thinking it's a waste of money which is a non-issue, neither of us wants to waste the time we've already invested.

"Above all else, I don't want this decision to unhinge the progress we've both made. That's what's paramount to me. This. Us. And more than 'us', you. You're most important—how you feel, what you're thinking, what you want. I've been selfish for the past five years, albeit sometimes inadvertently. It doesn't excuse my actions nevertheless so…be frank with me. Tell me what you want. I can stay. I can leave. I can finish my schooling here, or do my internships there."

The redhead shakes her head vehemently, but the conflict stays in her countenance, and Elsa finally realizes that what she's asking for is a lot to take in. She practically blindsided her sister with this query to begin with, and now she's asking for promptly made decisions. She wants to rub her weary eyes, but knows it'll give the wrong signal to the smaller girl so she reigns her emotions in, reaches up with both hands, and cups Anna's face, sending all of her attention to the blonde.

"I'm sorry. Yes, you can penalize me after for saying it, but I really am." She sighs, dragging her thumb across freckled cheeks and giving a helpless, apologetic smile at the look of confusion graced on the other girl's face. "I'm cornering you…with this. Didn't even have the decency to warn you about it first…" She laughs self-deprecatingly and nips at the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. "You don't have to give an answer now. I insist that you don't. Please think it over and let me know in your own time. It's not to say that you get the final word in the matter, but I do care about what you think and I will base my decision on it."

Anna sighs as well, but she notes that it's of relief more than anything, and chuckles as the smaller girl lumps tiredly back on her, a pliant, small body seeking a hug she's more than willing to give.

"I promise I'll give an answer soon," the redhead says softly, but Elsa shakes her head in reply, hugging the younger girl just a bit tighter. "I…I need to…just give me a few hours."

The blonde nods understandingly. "Take all the time you need."

And yet, even though she says it in an easy manner, both of them are quite aware of the situation. They _don't_ have all the time in the world. They have to make this decision and soon, or it might add on to the pile of regrets presently already full to the brim.

And the thought that's been in the forefront of her mind resounds, aching to be dissected.

What if her leaving only makes their entire situation even worse?

Elsa counts the days since their parents' passing. Four. Merely four days. And she's already asking for such a big decision to be made. Even after knowing how emotionally unhinged they both are from dealing with everything, from the funeral to her tell-all to, now, this.

_I'm the worst…_

But her decisions and plans and actions rarely have thoughts of the present in mind. She's stuck in the future, where all of it comes to a head—an erect building versus a blueprint—and she knows against better judgement that even though it's painful right now—even though the decisions are hard now, they have to make them, pursue them, and win, because it's the best for their future.

She squints as the dying sun filters through the edge of the umbrella, blinding rays catching her unawares. Glancing to her side, she sees green-blue eyes staring at her unabashedly, and she can almost see the goings on inside the redhead's brain—a beehive currently at work. Anna doesn't retract her gaze. Instead, her dainty fingers come up to brush Elsa's face, warm fingertips tapping intermittently at what she suspects are hardly visible freckles on her cheeks. They move up, grazing through some hairs on the side of her face before landing on her temples and smoothing across her forehead, her ears picking up the sound of skin rubbing on skin. Her eyes close automatically as that same hand travels downwards, thumb and middle finger grazing her closed lids, while the index travels down the bridge of her nose, Anna's entire palm finally resting at at the side of her face stilled in a cupping motion, while a busy thumb caresses the contours of her upper and lower lip.

And she knows what her sister's doing—sees it from her forlorn expression. And Elsa wants to tell her that she doesn't have to relegate herself into trying to remember her in this manner. She'll come back. Her absence will be a fleeting thing. As the smaller girl said earlier, a supposed cakewalk in comparison to five lonely years.

But she doesn't stop her. She merely sits still as it starts over again, and she wonders briefly what her sister must be seeing. The photo mosaic comes back to mind—Anna's unadulterated view of her. It's perfect and beautiful and everything she can't see in herself. But she knows it to be true…simply because it's made by Anna in a time that's undiluted of bad memories or dark emotions. She had vested all her creativity in the form of optimism, and the end result is not something Elsa can ever refute.

"I want to draw you."

The sudden words take her aback, widen her eyes infinitesimally, but she can only nod.

"Not now…" Anna says simply, sits up, cups her face, and renews her actions from earlier, inquisitive eyes boring over the whole of her face concentratedly with just as curious hands. "Just…stay here for now."

Elsa sits back, her own fingers grazing exposed kneecaps, and closes her eyes. She doesn't let her mind wander anymore. As Anna has repeatedly stated, she's much too good at it. She merely enjoys the small touches and caresses in silence, knowing above all that this moment may be short-lived, and she doesn't want to tarnish it any further with pessimistic thoughts.

O—O—O

The last few hours has been a blur; a whirlwind of emotion aching to be released. A steady thud is peaking in her right temple, beating, to what she assumes, in tandem to her heart. It should scare her that she feels so detached, but she knows it's a coping mechanism of what's going to transpire…Because she's quite aware that they both know what she'll decide. The real question is a matter of if she'll be able to lie through her teeth and get it past the older girl which seems the unlikeliest of scenarios or show genuine understanding of this hard decision that's been placed again on the two of them and be able to handle herself afterwards.

She cuts the engine of the motorcycle off, hops out of it, and pulls the helmet off of her stifling head. Rubbing the ache on her temple, wishing it away, she merely sighs at its persistence and begins trekking to her destination: a generic four story condominium complex.

The walk is a familiar one she takes weekly so she barely pays attention to her surroundings, stuck instead in her beehive mind and trying with all her might to arrange all the jumbled pieces so that she can present it better in a matter of several minutes; it feels fruitless for all the effort she attempts to put in. A brick wall blocks her thoughts, reducing all contemplations to circle around as if trapped in a rat's maze. It inevitably strengthens her frustrations with herself—this inability to just think a problem through and solve it. She wonders briefly how Elsa does it, and easily at that, and adds it as another enviable trait in an already growing list.

She arrives at the intercom box with her mind still in automatic mode, pressing 407 once and waiting for the feed to go through.

_"__Yeah?"_

"It's me. Let me in."

_"__I'll buzz you."_

The expectant loud buzz shocks the air, followed by an unlocking mechanism, and she ambles through the four stone steps before pulling the door and walking into the stuffy building. The still broken elevator barely grazes her mind, mechanical strides taking a left turn and starting the long trek to the fourth floor. In a regular meeting she'd grumble and moan especially when she reaches her destination, but tonight, it gives her a bit more time to gather her thoughts so she keeps the complaint to herself.

It doesn't take long to get there. She finds nothing takes long when her mind is in full distraction mode. Knowing the door will be kept unlocked for her, she twists the knob, and lets herself in, seeing the tenant at the entryway of the kitchen in casual clothes: khakis and a white polo short sleeve, and attempt to greet him with a smile, but her facial muscles remain strained and uncooperative.

"Hey! Have you eaten?"

She has, and a great meal at that. But she doubts she'd have the appetite right now even if she hadn't. She merely shakes her head despondently. At seeing her crestfallen expression, Kristoff throws a rag he'd been wiping his hands with on the kitchen counter and walks towards her, placing a worried hand on a slumped shoulder as soon as only a foot separates them.

"Sit down, make yourself at home, let me turn the heat down on what I'm cooking, and I'll join you soon, alright?"

She nods automatically, walking around him and entering the quaint, small living room. She walks around the beige suede sofa, loveseat, and recliner set and sits on the sheepskin rug covering the otherwise wooden floor, placing her helmet on the glass coffee table situated in the middle of the entire setup. Leaning back into the foot of the loveseat, she glances at the blond making his way out of the kitchen with two glasses filled with ice and Cokes stuffed in each burly arm and thanks him with a small nod as he places one of each in front of her, the sound of pop caps slicing the air before fizzing drowning out what has already been a pregnant, awful silence.

She takes a heavy gulp, winces outwardly at the sharp pain that erupts in her throat from the carbonation, before looking up to concerned chocolate orbs. She puts the glass back down, cold fingers playing with the condensed water that has already accumulated and breathes loudly, head thudding back to the soft foot of the loveseat and eyes locked on a whirling ceiling fan instead of the sitting, patiently waiting man across from her.

"I need help."

"That's what I'm here for."

His answer is what she's expecting, but doesn't alleviate her worries. She nibbles on the bottom of her lip, her still jumbled mind unable to give her traction for a good starting point.

"Elsa loves me," is the first thought that sticks, so it's the one she releases.

Her gaze flits back to his to gauge his reaction and he gives a pondering look first before, "I'm guessing not in the standard sisterly way?"

She nods her head once in agreement.

His face remains passive. "How does that make you feel?"

Such a standard therapist question, and if it was any other time she'd laugh at him for it, but today isn't one of those days.

She can only give a halfhearted shrug. "I don't know," she answers, tossing her brain for more viable words. "I love her. I still do, even after all these years. But I still resent her for abandoning me too. It's not as strong as it was years ago…for sure…and even now that I know the whys it's still hard for me to grasp why all of them just couldn't stand up and talk to me." She sighs heavily, grabbing her still full drink and taking another sip at its super sweet contents. "What _is_ clear…is that I do feel something. It…you know that folder you have? Of my exes and crushes and all the things I look for in a significant other?"

Kristoff nods, but she sees the argument on his strong, angular face. "I can see where you're going with this, but just because you look for traits similar to your sister in other women doesn't have to mean you want her."

"Then what does it mean?"

"That you may simply want to fill the void she's left behind," he says matter-of-factly. "Of course we've already spoken about this, but if you want to talk about it again…"

"No," she states resolutely, shaking her head vehemently as well. "But the thing is, when we last spoke about it, she wasn't here, therefore I didn't know how to think about the situation. Now that she is…" She trails off, hating that she can't find the words to describe her feelings. "Is it at all possible that I have feelings for her but they've just been dormant this whole time, triggered in pulses by…going out with girls that look like her and delving myself into art work solely with her in mind?"

Kristoff leans back into his seat, and gives an inquisitive look. He shrugs rather unprofessionally. "Yes?"

"God, what am I _paying_ you for?"

"You're not…we're friends and this is all pro bono…"

She laughs mirthlessly, eyeing his just as helpless smile.

"What do you want me to say Anna?" he asks, getting up from the recliner, taking his drink, and plopping on the floor at her right side. "I don't want to steer you into any directions. I want you to find the answers for yourself." He gives her a thoughtful look and then seems to decide right then of something. "Tell you what, we'll…we'll go through the folder. Give me a moment. Maybe it'll clear some things up."

She's confused at his words as he disappears in another room—his office, and comes back out with a familiar green binder, sitting back down on the floor and opening it with a flourish. His warm, brown eyes twinkle at her for a moment, before he takes the first paper out and she's met with a photo of her first girlfriend.

Blonde, of course, older, another of course. A summer fling that didn't last.

"We'll start this off with Brooke," Kristoff begins, putting the paper in front and between the two of them so that they can see it properly. "She fits all of the criteria of what will be 'your type'. Blonde, older, more mature—outwardly anyway—and smart. Why didn't she work out?"

It was years and years ago, but Anna still remembers it clearly. "She criticized my hair…" she grumbles, dagger staring at a smiling photograph "…when I braided them. Said it looked childish and if I wanted to look more mature, I shouldn't ever wear it like that again. It was said in casual conversation, in the middle of a date in a diner. I walked out and didn't talk to her again." She slaps the tall man's burly arms at the appearance of his exasperated smile, releasing a guffaw in its stead from her action. "Hey, I like my hair! Anyone who has a problem with it can suck—

"Now, now," the blond mollifies slowly, suppressing his grin to a wide smile. "I completely agree. Other than the fact that she wanted to change you…if…let's say, if she critiqued something else—

"It was the hair Kristoff. Stop fishing for anything else."

"So you and I agree then? If she said something of the same spectrum…say, you wore your hair in a ponytail that day and she didn't like it and said it out loud…would that have merited a storm out?"

"Probably not."

"Why?"

"The braid was a personal attack. It can't be immature…Elsa wears her hair a similar way and she exudes off-radar maturity."

"So it's back to Elsa."

"It always goes back to Elsa. You and I both know this."

"And her?" A new photograph is placed over the old one, another girl, another familiar face with achingly similar features as her sister. "Erin…wow, you dated a girl named Erin?"

She rolls her eyes at the well placed semi-insult. "Just because you knew an Erin who screwed you over, doesn't mean—

"_Everyone_ knows a girl named Erin that screw them over," he says easily, and resumes the topic just as quickly after. "What was wrong with her?"

"Nothing. No connection," Anna shrugs. "I'm having a hard time remembering her. Our stint was short. More than anything, it was probably the way she acted. It wasn't right. It wasn't—

"The way Elsa would act."

"Yay, we're back to square one," she replies in a deadpan snark.

"Okay," he states, nodding and shuffling through the papers in the folder, taking one out and placing it on the floor. "The only Asian in the bunch, which…I'm kind of surprised to see. Tell me why Vivian made the cut?"

"Her major was in architecture."

"Jesus Anna…"

"What?! You're the one pulling out all these pictures! Do you want me to lie about them?"

He sighs deeply, his large chest puffing out as he places the folder and all its contents on the coffee table. He gives a small scratch to his forehead, continuing with only half his mind available, "So now that she's back—

"In the atmosphere with drops of Jupiter in her hair?"

He nods in agreement at her good timing. "Yes, that too, but now that's she's back, and that role in your life is filled again…how does that change your outlook in your future partners?"

Anna groans loudly, falling into the floor and curling herself in a fetal position, both arms curling under her as a makeshift pillow. The sheepskin rug makes it comfortable, at the very least. "I don't know. I haven't thought about it. It doesn't seem important."

"Why not?"

"Because she's back…and I'm no longer looking for a partner."

"Tell me Anna. What is it about her that makes you feel this way? Why is she so esteemed in your viewpoint?"

"She's Elsa!" She feels that pretty much explains itself, but the blond just gives her a look that says that explanation is not quite enough. She wracks her brain for more. "She—it's from everything Kristoff. Literally…it's everything. We don't even have to get to the meaty stuff! Just…from outward appearance. I'll throw this out to you. In your opinion, is she good looking?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Why?"

The burly man shrugs as if the answer in itself is already obvious. "Have you seen her?"

Anna throws her hand out in gesticulation. "Exactly! She's so…hot…and this is just coming from…one woman to another. If I wasn't her sister—

"You'd tap that."

"I would totally tap that!"

"Well, who wouldn't?"

"And as I said, that's just the surface. No one knows what she's like Kristoff. No one. From the last couple days that she's shown me, it…it kinda hurts to see her so lonely. And I know it's not because no one would want her. I'm sure it's quite the opposite. But…she has these expectations that are so _high_…and they're…they're all in regards to _me_…"

"This sounds rather familiar…"

His unexpected quip makes her sit back mid-stutter, her eyes widening as they lock with his own twinkling in mirth.

"I'm going the blunt road here Anna. How do you feel about your sister? Today. Right now. I don't want your answer when you first saw her four days ago, or even what it was a year or two ago. Now that you've gotten time to spend with her, and she's not an auspicious figment of your imagination that you could've blown into epic proportions that no girl in the _world _could imitate let alone _be_…is—

"She's surpassed all of my expectations." She can hear how quiet the confession sounds, drowned easily by the steady humming of the whirring fan. She can't match the pair of chocolate eyes boring concentratedly at her so she fixes them on her glass of Coke, eyeing the water droplets trickling lazily and pooling on the glass surface. "I…you know how I feel being her younger sister…"

Kristoff nods, taking a swig of his drink. One word shuts down all of the rest effectively. "Inferior."

The smile that flits up the redhead's face is weak and sardonic, knees curling up to her body and arms coming around to hold them in place—a physical coping mechanism. "No one's ever said so, of course," she says softly, her stomach feeling hollow from hearing herself talk about this out loud. "Mom and dad has never looked at either of us in such a light. But it's not hard to see where the jarring differences are especially when people pit us right next to each other and it's staring at them in the face. Hell, _I_ see it. I see it and it makes me sick to my stomach. It's one of the things I can't tell her about, but it's there. It's manifested in its five year stay and evolved into a monster I can't control. Funny thing is, I feel no animosity towards her. Maybe in the beginning when she left, but after some serious self-reflection it's all turned to hatred in what I couldn't do—what I can't become regardless of the effort I put in.

"I was so afraid she'll see it in our reunion—the person I see everyday staring at me in the mirror. Broken, messed up…inferior. Afraid that it would take just one look and she'll be able to see all the bad things…and leave again." She locks eyes with just as morose ones, unable to hide the pain in her own and curling deeper within herself as a result. "But I was so wrong." She tries to smile, because this thought is a genuinely happy one, but instead the heart wrenching bubble in her chest breaks and the dam goes loose with it. The tears come out messily, staining a new pair of motorcycle trousers as she buries her face into the curve of both knees, arms tightening around herself even further.

She doesn't hear the tall man shift from his position, only realizing it when a hot hand presses against the top of her back and feels small consoling circular rubs on her shoulder blade. Shutting her eyes, hoping it would keep her emotions in check and also her mind, she continues in harsh, small breaths, "She still looks at me the same way…as back then—in high school…when life wasn't filled with complications and it didn't feel like I was just living from day to day. And after knowing about her feelings for me, the thought passed that maybe that was why…but a large part of me still questions it. A sane person would leave after I air out every bad thing about me. That's what happened with Jenna. Too many bad days overshadowing the good. It was a mutual breakup, but only because I knew I was holding her back from a real relationship and I knew deep in my head I didn't want her to stay for a chance that I'll change, knowing already that I won't.

"With Elsa…She doesn't know everything yet…and I'm still afraid of showing and telling it all. But the little I do reveal doesn't come with disappointment as a reaction. Just…consolation. She doesn't have to say anything, and she knows it. She just has to be there. Sometimes words aren't good enough, but being in her arms, getting hugged, being shown that it's okay to cry or be angry or hurt…

"She's made me feel so much more within the last four days than anyone has been able to in the last five years. And maybe some of the blame goes on me. Maybe I didn't give them the chance, or I just wasn't able to feel the effort. But with her, there's no second guessing my feelings, or hers.

"How do I feel about her today? I love her. I love her more than anyone in the world. I love her probably more than I can love another person in any other way…and yet I still don't know what that transcends to. I can look at it from an outsider's perspective and see her as the perfect, viable woman, but of course that's close to impossible because of our history—and not just because we're sisters.

"She ran away from me for the better part of five years triggering a messy avalanche that I still haven't gotten over. And to be honest, I've pretty much forgiven her already, but it doesn't mean I've forgotten. I probably never will. Add social convention, futures, and everything else in the mix and…"

She bemoans her situation loudly, unlocking her hands and snapping her body back against the foot of the loveseat, sitting shoulder to shoulder with a contemplative, listening friend-cum-therapist. She sniffs loudly, the back of her hand smearing the tears out of weary, heavy eyes.

"I don't know what to do," she states again sounding just as resignedly as the first time the words were uttered. "Elsa's leaving again in a few days. She said we have to make a decision on whether or not we should finish school considering it's only a month and half left, but she and I both know finishing is the right decision, and anything less or different is counterproductive and dumb. She says it'll be different this time, and I believe her wholeheartedly…but the uneasiness is still there—the what ifs making me crazy."

"Have you ever thought that maybe getting some time away from her could be a good thing?"

She gives him an incredulous look that makes him effectively backtrack through his words.

"I…yes, Anna, I'm quite aware being away from her for five years has been eye opening enough, but listen to this idea before you poop on it."

She sighs loudly, rolls her eyes, and leans forward to cup the ice cold drink in warm hands, gulping the contents down her throat along with the lump lodged in there.

"A lot of people get blinded by options when the one they think they want is staring at them in the face," Kristoff continues, giving her an even look she can't return. "Elsa…I'm guessing she's not expecting you to return her feelings?"

Anna shakes her head, thoughts of the afternoon and the many things her older sister had done to ensure boundaries weren't scuffed entering her mind, and how rebellious she had been at seemingly every turn. She's not even sure why she had reacted to the majority of them in that manner, but she remains unapologetic even now at how it all transpired—getting Elsa ruffled is quite possibly the best thing in the world she's ever seen.

"Then you should use her disappearance to your advantage to find out exactly what you want. Run through all the options in your mind without outside interference. Look through every avenue and in the end, choose what makes you happiest. _You_, Anna. Not your sister and certainly not society. I know you don't think so now, but you can treat this as a rare opportunity to be able to look back into the proverbial mirror and start finding a way to repair the broken girl you see there instead of moping at her conception. The what ifs aren't going to lessen. If anything, it'll probably get harder from here on out, especially when you get to deciding what you actually want."

"You sound like you already know what that is."

"It's because I do, and I know you do too, but you still need some time to assimilate it all because this is in regards to your sister. It's not some random chick that has a personality trait that's shared by her or an ex that looks kind of like her. This is her. This is actually about her and _for_ her. I know you don't want to mess this up. So think of her temporary absence as moreover a blessing in disguise. And use it to find yourself…because you can't give yourself to someone without knowing who you are first. It's a disservice to the other party member if you don't have your whole self invested in the relationship."

His words incite a question in her mind, her mouth getting away with it before any further thought. "Is that why my other ones failed?"

He merely shrugs. "Maybe. But honestly, when Elsa was gone and you were floundering for air, would you have been able to give all of yourself knowing you weren't even whole to begin with?" His words strike a deep resonance in her, and she gazes at him with a mix of wonder and amazement as he gives her a handsome, easy smile. "What? Did you forget I'm an actual therapist and I can see through things like that?"

She can only laugh at his retort, leaning against his strong shoulder and gazing at the wall across from them. The piny smell he procures is warm and familiar. "And when I do find all the answers I'm looking for…and I'm happiest with Elsa…"

"Anna, this may seem overly optimistic and blunt, but fuck the world. Seriously…there's enough shit going on from other things that what you and your sister do behind closed doors shouldn't be anyone else's business. What? Are you hurting anyone by loving each other? Will the world cease to exist if both of you give in to your needs? Knowing the little I know about Elsa, her answer to all of this was a resounding yes. That's why she left. That's why she didn't tell you her feelings. Consequences are things you can't help, but accept. _Impending_ consequences are the things nightmares get their fuel from. She gambled on the latter and came out the loser. Sometimes we scare ourselves more than we have to. A coping mechanism. It's better to be overly pessimistic than being overly optimistic only because if we are let down, we like it when it's not from a one hundred story building.

"Now, I'm going to put your problem in the perspective of the world. There are seven billion people on Earth. So far in your lifetime, you've interacted with possibly 0.00025 percent of them. That's mere interaction. That's…walking down the street of New York and seeing a passing face, but being unable to put a name or even circumstance to that person. An even smaller percentage of that actually knows who you are. In that small percentage…whose opinion do you care for enough that you would forsake possibly a lifetime of true happiness for? Who's mere opinion is more important than…hmm…Elsa?"

The blond man's monologue has left her speechless, causing her mind which has been trapped in a stagnant, depressed state to brim with hope and possibility.

"Kristoff, has anyone ever told you you're kind of amazing?"

He scoffs, a heavy hand ruffling her hair in just one swipe. "Kind of? I'm spouting two hundred dollar an hour words of wisdom here. There's no room for something undervalued like a 'kind of'."

Anna laughs, hugging the tall man around the waist as his muscular arm snakes easily around her shoulders. "Thanks Kristoff."

"Anytime Anna. Seriously, it's what I'm here for, alright? You know it's not just designated Monday nights. I'm your friend before your therapist…I hope you know that."

She grins up at him before uncoiling her hands and using the loveseat to prop herself back to her feet, her hand coming down to grab her helmet and looking at him expectantly as he also makes his way up from the floor.

"You want to stay for dinner? Sven's on-call tonight. They're working him like crazy now that he's a resident…"

She shakes her head, but gives him a thankful smile regardless. "Thanks, but…I need to go home."

"You need to go see Elsa more like."

She swipes at him with the motorcycle helmet, but he expects it and moves out of the way fast enough, his deep rumble laughter trailing him. It serves to make the grin on Anna's face even wider. He walks to the door and keeps it open for her, giving her a warm smile and small shove out of his apartment before closing the door behind her retreating form.

O—O

It's late by the time she gets home, Kai pointing her to Elsa's whereabouts before leaving for the night. She ambles up the staircase, takes the familiar route to the west wing of the estate and stands at the foot of Elsa's door.

She's been in heavy contemplation mode since her departure from her therapist's abode, and oddly enough, it's not in regards to the depression of her sister's impending retreat to the other side of the country. She's finally found some clarity in, at least, that situation—the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. The talk had opened her eyes to the positives, and even though she's still afraid of the loneliness the next several weeks will inevitably bring, she knows she'll find more of herself in the process as well. Whether this will all turn out to be a good thing or a bad thing is something best left for the future, but she finds that she's looking forward to its fruition more than dreading it now.

Elsa's door is cracked slightly ajar, and she knocks on it a couple of times before pushing it completely open. Light blue eyes look up at her, followed by a small, almost shy smile that hitches her breath, and then an index finger salute signaling to give her a moment.

Anna's not aware that the taller girl is actually on her phone and in the middle of a conversation until the older girl looks towards the wall in deep contemplation and states, "Yes, professor, I received the attachment. I'll be sure to finish and turn it in at the same time as the syllabus has stated…No…an extension isn't needed…No, I'm not sure yet…Yes, I'm quite aware that an exception can't be made. I'll see what pans out here before I can tell you what I've decided… Yes…No, don't apologize. It's not something anyone can do anything about. I'll call you if anything changes…goodnight."

She turns the phone off and sighs, slinging it easily onto the bed where it makes a dull thump on the comforter before looking back at her. Closing the door behind her, the younger girl gives a small smile before making her way to the bed and sitting at its side, smirking playfully at how light blue eyes stay steadily concentrated at her face and nothing else.

The mischievous thought of having motorcycle trousers on for the rest of Elsa's stay blips in her mind causing her to grin outwardly and the older girl to narrow her eyes in suspicion.

"Was that your professor?" she asks instead, taking the taller girl unawares with her unexpected query.

The blonde nods and breathes heavily, stepping closer and joining her on the bed but giving ample space between them, their gazes locked on the same opposing wall and vanity. "He was just making sure I received the homework assignment due this Wednesday and was wondering if I'll be able to make it to class for the announcement of the final project this coming Friday."

"Call him back and tell him, 'Yes'."

Elsa's head swivels at her, eyes questioning at first and then mixing with worry. She opens her mouth to speak, but cuts herself off as the redhead shakes her head to refute whatever she was planning on saying.

"You need to finish school," the smaller girl says resolutely. "I do too. And I'll only go back as soon as you're gone."

The notch in the taller girl's forehead deepens, the look of consternation with it. "You're sure?"

Anna could only smile, her body feeling light and carefree from what has been, so far, a gut wrenching decision. "Yes."

Light blue eyes fall to the owner's lap, long fingers curling and rubbing against each other in a familiar gesture of hesitance. Upon seeing it, Anna swallows the distance between them in one slide towards the taller girl, her left leg curling around a straight back, arms swallowing a familiar smooth waist, hands linking at the base of it, and her chin placed evenly on a curved shoulder. In this close view point she can see all of the barely noticeable freckles smattering over her sister's face, but more than that is a glitter of navy blue specks twinkling in a majority of light blue orbs. She wonders briefly if anyone else has ever gotten this close to the older girl before, and the random thought sends a just as jealous afterthought that she attempts to shake off.

"The longer you stay here the harder this decision will become," she says evenly, getting her sister's attention again. "Don't be hesitant because of me. I…wasn't able to say this a few hours ago, but I can honestly say that I'll be fine…so long as you keep every word you said that we'll do while you're away."

"Of course!" Elsa's answer is quick and certain, a thoughtless, automatic action that leaves Anna feeling lighter about this decision than ever before. "But…you're really sure about this Anna? You…we can sleep on it…"

She trails off at the redhead's vehement shake of the head. "I'm sure," the smaller girl states resolutely and beams at her with confidence. "Let's…spend the day tomorrow…just you and me…even though that's all we've been doing. But I don't care…it'll be just you and me. We'll go everywhere—do whatever that comes to mind. When we get back home, we'll look up the next day flights to LA and we'll book you the first morning flight available. I'll drive you to the airport and then head to school after. This is what I want to see happen…and now that you know, I'd like to know what you think."

Elsa gives her a beautiful easy smile and leans forward, touching their foreheads softly. "Looks like we have made a proper decision we can both agree to."

Anna grins, slides her head, and places a sloppy kiss on a warm cheek before sliding herself out of the warm embrace and getting off of the mattress. "I'm gonna get ready for bed," she announces, looking down at the blush her sister is valiantly trying to stave off and smirk outwardly at how badly the other girl is losing this particular fight. "I hear you have homework due on Wednesday. You better get started on that because I don't think you'll have the time for it tomorrow." She makes her way to the door and looks back just in time to see Elsa narrowing her eyes at her, but she can only give an easy chuckle at the endearing look. "I'm sleeping in here again tonight by the way," she continues with an impetuous tone. "If you have to work late, try to not make so much noise."

She laughs at the exasperated smile thrown her way and leaves the room before the older girl can refute or retaliate.

She knows for sure that she, and in essence, Elsa are headed in the right direction by adhering to this decision they've both agreed on. And while it feels easy right now, she's also not oblivious to the fact that it will be difficult later on. It'll be hardest in less than two days' time, when she has to see the taller girl leave again, but she's taking every sage advice that Kristoff has handed her and run with it.

This determination to set things right feels jarringly new, but she's not scared of it. She's blamed other factors in the past for the person she's become today, resolutely ignoring that she may have been the problem to begin with. The first step is obviously to admit that she's wrong, learn from that, and move on. But more than that, more than the admittance and facing who she is…she knows that she has to be able to look into the proverbial mirror before seeing Elsa again and be proud to see the person staring back at her from the other side. She has to like who she sees—not an embodiment of a goal or a shadow of what she wants—she has to be that person…and love her. Anyone less doesn't deserve the person sitting in the other room. Because as much as Elsa loves her and, from the looks thrown her way, _wants_ her, Kristoff's words reverberate the only reason she needs to fall back and not take the open invitation. She can't mess this up. She can't afford to jump in headfirst without thinking because that's what she's done in her past relationships. And while the majority of those girls were and still are meaningless flings, they show a side of herself she has to face and overcome as well. She has to become a better person. She has to learn to love herself.

She refuses to see Elsa as just another picture in an already brimming, green binder.

**AN: Sorry for the lack of updates last week. I forgot to mention I'd be in Hawaii for vacation and I didn't have any time to write :\ Here's another chapter in which nothing happens because plot is overrated :D**

**actionpotential: Thank you! Everything is awesome! (Lego reference…)**

**Wandering Quill: I am seriously contemplating on writing an AU of this AU which revolves around that scene, I kid you not. I have so many plot bunnies in regards to it in my head, it's most likely going to happen after this fic haha. That song, while inadvertent, was very fitting. Thank you for sharing it. **

**SakuraAyanami: Woohoo character development! Those two words signal that I'm doing something right XD I'm glad you like it despite no plot movement. I wholeheartedly agree about liking introspective chapters. We'll get more into Anna's head next chapter!**

**vladivostok: Haha Bob Ross…I love that dude. They cleaned up pretty well regardless of the mess, and no, unfortunately Elsa's face wasn't green…moreover a mixture of…what colors did I use? Scarlet and taupe…I think… **

**Icy-Windbreeze: Anna won't allow Elsa to get over her methinks.**

**Tripower: Taking ten chapters to solve a problem builds angst…and we all know how much everyone likes that. Haha, I see…pillow talk. You know…when you put it that way it seems purposefully done, but I'm not aware I do it until after someone tells me. **

**duckhunter44: Ask and ye shall receive! :) Thanks for the review.**

**Hei-Feng: :) Thank you. I shall strive to make it as genuine and believable for as long as possible haha. **

**Guest: Haha, that was a great mental image. Thank you for that. I'm glad I can bring a little ray of sunshine in the form of a no plot fic XD**

**shinoh: I'm aliiiiive! Glad to see you alive and kicking as well. Hope you like it.**

**McHaudegen: Honestly the heartwarming scenes are so much easier to write. Whenever I sit down to write these scenes, the emotions that are written are pretty much what I feel. If it's a sad scene, I'm super sad. If it's a happy one, I'm all grins. I guess it shows in the writing. Obviously because happiness is the easier emotion, it translates easier than angst. I need to record my face when I'm writing sometimes…I think it'd be pretty comical to see how I look like when all these emotions are being put to "paper".**

**Iwantaparrot1: :D I'm glad you're liking the story thus far. We shall see Anna's thoughts moreover next chapter, although we touch on her PoV in this one. Looks like she wants to go the safe and slow road…stupid prolonging author…**

**barbara: Let's go for Anna taking months to see how it pans out. Years sounds like this fic will go on forever when I wasn't planning on it to be this long haha. Since we're going for realism and based on what happened on this chapter, I'm thinking the story will go more towards the "concealment story line" although honestly that won't be for…a while. Gosh…how long is this story gonna be? I don't foresee any jealousy plots in the near future of the two sisters going out with other people in front of the other—Elsa's pretty set and Anna's heading in that direction. I should say so now (maybe a spoiler alert?) but I'm not one for bad endings. They'll get together. I'll force them if I have to…I don't like to read a ship that doesn't sail…if you catch my drift. As the author of it, I'm religiously for my ships…and if I can't make them have a happy ending, there's no reason to write a story. :P**


	8. Chapter Eight: Complex

Chapter Eight: Complex

Anna jerks awake, heart thudding erratically in her ears and breaths coming in short uneven pants. She looks to her left side, one of the exhales coming out in relief when she sees her sister's still sleeping visage before the back of her head meets the comfort of the hot pillow again. She's not sure what time it is, but the palpable darkness of her surroundings indicate an early hour. Still too early for her to be awake, but she's used to it by now.

Her night terrors have been a part of her sleeping schedule for years—three, four? She stopped counting long ago. And one would think she'd be used to the chill that comes in near tandem with the constant occurrence, averaging four or five times per week, but in her dreams her mindset is always the same—a blank slate. As if the last five years hasn't happened, Elsa's only turning her back now, and the deep, knowledgable, and sadistic part of her brain triggers the fact that the older girl is leaving her forever and she's helpless for all the effort, the crying, and pleading she screams in a dark, lonely world.

Recently it's manifested into more. More of the same, but with additional people: her parents. Unlike Elsa, they don't turn their backs. They eerily stand in place with eyes unblinking as if staring right into her soul. Then they slowly degenerate from the loving people she remembers them as to the mangled bodies inside the freezing morgue. She'd scream just the same, until her lungs would give out and her throat would grow hoarse, but just like all of her other nightmares, it wouldn't matter. No one ever hears her.

She draws in a deep breath, sleep deprived eyes staring wide awake into the darkened ceiling. She knows it's impossible to get back to sleep now that she's awake. It always ends up being this way…and just like those other early mornings she's endured, she figured she might as well make the time forced on her a productive one.

She slides carefully off of the bed, eyes glancing warily back at her sister to ensure she doesn't wake the still slumbering girl. The cold, wooden floor feels good under her bare feet as she tiptoes to her sister's work desk, clicking the lamp on its surface, and glancing at the homework the other girl had started and finished the night before. The end result are drawings of many final structures—all outdated, medieval-like. Again, an amazement like no other seizes her at seeing Elsa's work. There's so much precision, each sketch showing detailed outlines of one story straw houses or two story Tudors in different angles and perspectives—even what it would look like if someone were to cut the building in half and show the interior versus the exterior and how it looks like as a whole.

Anna had been joking with the other girl about finishing it—she hadn't expected her to, although in retrospect, she should've known…This is Elsa after all. The older girl had never been one to struggle with schoolwork, another enviable trait. She wonders briefly if Elsa had ever looked at her in the same light—with jealousy, hoping to attain something inherently Anna's that she can't grasp. The redhead can't pull any trait of her own that the blonde can't or hadn't already surpassed though, so she lets the thought flicker off. Best not to dwell on it and ruin the start of what's promising to be a good, albeit, last day with her sister.

Finally remembering why she tiptoed to the work desk in the first place, she grabs a few choice items: Elsa's sketchpad, a couple of drawing pencils, and an eraser and makes her way back to the bed. She turns the bedside lamp on to the dimmest setting, eyeing her sister for any reaction to the sudden light and smiles when the older girl merely sleeps on, arms splayed and crossed in front of her, body curled in a fetal position, and legs bent together, the blanket kicked haphazardly to the bottom of the bed.

The redhead drops the items on the floor carefully and goes back to the work table to get the chair as well, trying with all her might to not make any noise—every shuffle and thud in the heavy silence rings like gunshot to her ears. She sets the computer chair on the floor, cringing at the sound, looking again towards her sister and sighing in relief at her continued sleeping state. The younger girl's not quite sure what time the blonde had gone to sleep the previous night—Anna had watched her work for the better part of an hour before tucking in at her insistence on not waiting up.

Making sure the locking mechanism on the wheels of the leather chair is set up properly, she climbs on the cool surface and fishes for the items on the floor, opening up the sketchpad to the nearest blank page and sets to drawing the only muse that has ever kept her occupied enough to merit her undivided attention.

She wonders if it's merely coincidence that she's drawing Elsa in this position again: fetal, asleep, hair splayed in random directions. She's beautiful even when unconscious—another trait to be jealous about. Anna really needs to sit down one of these days and list them all out.

One of the main things the redhead notices is that the usual guard and seriousness surrounding the taller girl is gone, replaced by gentleness only seen and outwardly projected to the smaller girl. Before Elsa's confession, she had wondered why the blonde had only acted that way towards her—during that one year they had shared together, she had never seen her sister interact with another classmate, boy or girl, in the same manner she had with her. At that time, she had attributed it to the fact that they were siblings and had dismissed it easily because of it. Upon closer retrospection though, she finds that the delicateness of her sister's actions should've hinted towards something…more. She wishes fruitlessly that she'd been told or found out for herself sooner, although what she would do with the knowledge is beyond her.

She ponders the what ifs in her alert mind just as she begins sketching an outline of the older girl's delicate face, her side profile lit in a warm, soft glow by the dim lamp. She shades in enviously high cheekbones, rubbing her thumb and forefinger against the lead to give that surprisingly royal air befitting her sister's smooth face and adding tiny dots for barely there freckles. Turquoise eyes flitter back and forth from the sketchpad to her sister's still slumbering form, noting every now and then the mechanical breathing by the rise of sloping shoulders as the younger girl draws in a straight button nose, her teeth coming out to chew on her bottom lip inadvertently as her focus and undivided attention is taken easily and effortlessly by this one action.

The lips, she finds, are unsurprisingly distracting to attempt to draw. It's not as if it's difficult—maybe a bit because Elsa's lips have a small upward quirk as if she's always amused even when asleep, but Anna finds herself staring at them far more unabashedly only because her sister's light blue eyes aren't looking back at her in scrutiny. Heat flashes in her face as she tries to gather her focus once more, eyes resolutely on the sketchpad as her mind brings her back to yesterday afternoon when she was all but lounging on the taller girl's lap. Apparently being emotionally unstable is a good thing sometimes because humility of their questionable position didn't cross her mind at all—her sister's leaving first and foremost taking up the majority of her brain function. She's only glad Elsa didn't bring it up. If their situations were reversed, she knows she would not have been as quiet about it as her older sister had been and she's thankful for that maturity she's always expected of the taller girl, at least in regards to her.

Meticulousness and precision drives her hand to grasp the pencil tighter, lost in the sea of creativity and perfection as she strives to create a near replica of Elsa—bed, position, everything—taking up the entire eleven by seventeen inch sketchpad and leaving not a single blank space untouched. Again she's amazed at how, with her sister as her muse, she's able to focus so well that no other brain function matters. She figures, it might be because everything else pales in comparison. A dull landscape to a perfect body. A stranger's face compared to a beautiful, familiar one. The thought of some of her exes fly to the redhead's busy mind. And of course she's used some of them as her muse, Jenna being the most recent one. Is she surprised that even then they hadn't been able to hold her attention, in art as well as in the relationship? It might as well be a rhetorical question.

And it's because of this trait of hers—what had Kristoff called it? The wandering serial monogamist? As soon as a relationship loses it's glimmer, as soon as she sees something she doesn't like—an imperfection only her mind can conjure, she gives up. There would be nothing the other party member could say to sway her decision on the matter. Of course this has lead to broken friendships and irreparable rapports—only a small handful had ended the way she and Jenna had ended things. The rest had sworn her off forever. In retrospect, she finds it's worse than a one night stand. For the latter there's at least an unspoken mutual agreement within the first night that there'd be no more. With her, there's only inevitable end. It could be the next day, the next week, the next month, or the next year. It didn't matter when—just that it was an inevitable end to even the most hopeful starts.

More than anything—even more than the fear of society finding out if she and Elsa were to take that step together, she's afraid of her own self messing it up. Because she had, in the past, plunged in without thought countless times, and those relationships had ended in the worst ways.

Kristoff's right…as he usually was, even though she's not apt to saying so. She really can't mess this up. There's so much more at stake, and if this doesn't work out, she can't turn a blind eye and act like it doesn't matter like she's done in the past. It would be impossible to act like Elsa's feelings don't matter when to Anna it's all that matters—everything else is just inconsequential background noise.

Her train of thought skids to a halt as the girl currently riding every synapse in her mind lets out a small groan and turns to her back, the borrowed Sci-Arc shirt riding higher and catching Anna's attention too easily. Her progress comes to screeching stop as she's given a clear, unabashed view of so much alabaster skin, and if she questioned whether or not she was attracted to her sister prior to this morning, this would be an eye opening (literally and figuratively) start of the day for her.

The redhead briefly wonders if the blonde works out. It's not as if she's muscular, but the taut stomach in clear view even from the dim lighting makes it all the more possible. There's barely any fat _anywhere. _Add that impossibly beautiful face and she wonders how it's possible for the older girl to have even kept anyone at bay. She knows if she were in anyone else's shoes, she would pursue the blonde until the threat of possible restraining orders…and probably try even after.

Anna draws in a deep breath to collect her thoughts, reigns in the need to go back into the bed and glomp the older girl and drags her eyes back to the sketchpad. She's only glad that the outline is pretty much done before Elsa's shift—if she wasn't able to get so much accomplished in that little time, she definitely would want to crawl back into the bed and into what looks like warm, inviting arms. But the sketch is nearing completion, and more than actually wanting to draw her sister as she had proclaimed less than a day before, she wants the blonde to find it in the middle of a busy day in which the redhead won't be there—a small reminder that she may be alone, but not for long. She only wishes she could see the blonde's expression upon finding it, but she figures the joy it'll bring to an otherwise normal or even boring day is worth it.

She wastes no more time in ogling her sister even though it's all she wants to do and sets to work, fingers graying from the lead smudging onto the sketchpad and her focus only on finishing this early morning project.

It's nearing seven when she finishes, artist's eyes grazing over her work critically. Her knuckles unconsciously graze over a fine side profile, a smile flittering up her own countenance, and she knows based on just her reaction to it, that it's definitely good enough. She breathes in, looks up towards her sister's supine form and grins at the older girl's spread eagled form, every inch of skin searching for a cool spot in an otherwise hot bed.

With as much caution as a couple hours back, she climbs off of the computer chair and brings the sketchpad and all the items back with her towards and atop the work table, concealing her work by flipping the pages all the way back to the cover and placing the eraser and drawing pencil beside it. Another couple of minutes and she's able to lumber the computer chair back to its original position, giving her sister one more look before taking some clothes out to wear for the day. She figures she might as well start out what she knows will inevitably be a too quick day regardless of the early hour she had awoken to.

O—O

"You realize it's already almost ninety degrees outside, right…and it's only eight thirty?"

Anna laughs at the dubious look Elsa gives her as she gives her two puffy coats: one light blue and another, bright white.

"We'll need it where I'm taking you," the redhead just says simply, pulling out a couple sweaters as well.

"The passes aren't open and Canada's a bit far especially for a day trip."

She lets the blonde fish around for information, but doesn't give anything up. Just like with the paint-water balloon activity, seeing the confusion and intrigue in her sister's expression turn into gradual understanding and elation is a special treat that she won't ever tire of. She's only glad of the fortunate timing for the activity she's planned for the two of them; it's usually saved for hotter days, but this year, NYU managed an earlier date.

"I took out two bags," the redhead says, curving her head and pointing with her lips at two shopping bags at the side of the bed beside the blonde. "Put one of each stuff I'm giving you inside. And no Elsa, we're not going to Canada, we're not going snowboarding or skiing or anything relating to snow. It will be cold…and that's all you'll be getting from me."

Light blue eyes narrow in further perplexity as Anna gives her a pair of each item: cloth gloves, snow gloves, Uggs, sweaters, scarves, earmuffs, beanies, and thick snowboarding pants. As expected, the older girl folds them and properly arranges one of each item in separate bags in silence. The younger girl figures that by now Elsa would just learn to take the surprises in stride—it didn't fail to yesterday and Anna has made doubly sure that today would be perfect in all aspects.

The redhead grabs one bag and signals for the blonde to grab the other. "Come on. Kai's waiting for us." She grins devilishly at the blonde's small nod as they make their way out of her room. "Lucky you…no motorcycle trousers today. I wanted to show off my body suit, but…maybe I can use it on one of our future Skype sessions to reel you back to this side of the country quicker."

She looks back in time to see a mortified blush sweep across her sister's smooth countenance, and the cackle at getting such an easy rise out of the older girl comes out of her diaphragm. The small smack to her backside from the bag gripped by Elsa's hand is unexpected which draws more hilarity from her chest and they're at the door of the estate, with Kai looking at the two of them with a warm smile atop his friendly face, before the laughter finally bubbles off of her system.

Per usual, the blonde goes in first, light blue eyes glaring at her indignantly as she clambers in, and Anna follows, her grin still wide from ear to ear. They deposit the bags easily at their feet, the ample room helping them along and as soon as their seat belts are clicked in place, they're off to their destination.

"Aww, don't look like that…"

The indignant pout upon that regal face is something the redhead wants to capture.

As she's reaching for her phone to snap a quick pic, her ears pick up her sister grumbling, "I don't think it's very fair that you know my weakness and use it to your every advantage."

"Brats don't play fair either," she replies with a grin, swipes her phone up, pulls out the camera feature and takes a quick picture before the harassed look turns even deeper. She merely receives a narrowing of light blue eyes as the sound of a captured photo resounds around them. "And even then," the redhead continues pocketing her phone in one fell swoop, "What's stopping you from utilizing _my_ weakness."

"It would be helpful to know what it is."

"It should be obvious, especially to you."

The words come out easily because she means them wholeheartedly, and the other girl's speechlessness only widens her smile, her heart constricting at the bittersweetness of it all.

This same time tomorrow, she might be alone again, and even though she doesn't want thoughts like that to ruin what should be a great day, she's been counting every minute—every _second—_since the older girl had woken up, and to her chagrin, time doesn't slow down when you're keeping track of it as is popularly believed. It passes just as easily, just as _quickly_, like soft drifting sand through open fingers.

Anna leans in, needing contact and pulls the seat belt so quickly that it locks her in.

_How fitting._

But it seems Elsa can still read her thoughts just fine because the older girl unbuckles it for her, unclicking her own after, and the release from its choking hold feels somehow more today—contains a deeper meaning more than she's able to grasp. The thought derails as her cheek rests upon the crook of a familiar neck, her sister's winter mint scent, sharp, clean, familiar, and so inherently Elsa that she automatically breathes more of it in, hoping for this small reminder to stay long after the older girl has gone.

"How can I miss you already when you're still here?"

And she wishes that she can banish the helpless tone in her voice, but it comes out with such ringing clarity that it's painful to listen to just as much as it was to say out loud. She's only glad of the strong arm gathering her into a just as supporting body, her own snaking around a smooth waist as she buries her head deeper into Elsa's shoulder, hoping to lose herself in the hospitable gesture.

She's mildly aware that the screen protecting her and the blonde's privacy from Kai is down, but so much of her just doesn't care at the moment. She wants to grab every second within the next twenty two…twenty three hours…maybe less…and hold on to it as tightly as is humanly possible. Any wandering look, any unwanted attention can be easily discarded. Again…just like the cafeteria…white noise around an impenetrable bubble.

Elsa doesn't say anything and merely cards lithe fingers through her hair that she had decided to leave down today just for this reason. For as much as the older girl loves touching the burnish strands, the feeling that Anna receives from it is doubly satisfying, and after the reveal that it's not something the other girl is wont to do with past partners, the small gesture doubles in significance.

"We haven't booked anything yet," the blonde's soft voice filters through her ear, and her eyes shut automatically at the lilt, her hands grasping the fabric of the older's girl's shirt into fisted bunches.

It takes several moments, but she's able to outwardly project a vehement shake of the head, her body leaning just far enough so that her gaze is met with serious and imploring light blue eyes.

She shakes her head again and breathes in, a small smile flitting upon her face as Elsa's familiar smell reaches her olfactory senses. "Take everything that I'll say with a grain of salt today," she says with a sigh, leaning her head into the other girl's still busy fingers so that the palm ends up cupping the side of her face. "I'll miss you, but the day is not done yet and I need to stop thinking it's already tomorrow."

The blonde's smile is sad at her admission, the older girl's thumb swiping small caresses on her upper cheek. "Let's make the most of it so that we don't have any regrets then, shall we?"

There really was no better way to put it, so Anna merely nods at the easy statement and curls herself further inwards to the relative safety of her sister's affectionate hug.

She loses track of time in the hug, but it doesn't feel very long before the car comes to a stop. It's not as if she expected it to be long considering it's a commute she's been used to for almost two years, but today it just seems that much quicker. Not too eager on getting out only because she has to disentangle herself from a warm embrace, Anna does so, but with minimal speed, smiling sheepishly at the warm, understanding eyes that hold zero judgment and only tenderness when upon her. She grabs one of the bags, already knowing Elsa will take the other and climbs out of the car, sending a shy, thankful smile towards Kai who simply beams at her. She wonders briefly what he must think of the two of them, and finds she doesn't want to open up that can of worms just yet. The quiet, oftentimes solemn gentleman is the closest father figure she has now that she doesn't have one. To be judged by him just through his eyes seems unfathomable scary.

"What time shall I pick you both up Miss Anna?" he asks easily, dark brown eyes questioning as he shuts the door after Elsa steps out as well.

"We should be done around five. I'll call you if it gets longer," she answers, taking her phone out and looking at the time: ten minutes before nine. She's never been late to class if Kai's taking her—his extreme punctuality is almost gift-like.

"I shall ask the chef to prepare dinner. You'll be alright without lunch? I can deliver anything of your choosing."

The redhead shakes her head, a thankful grin flitting on her visage. "Thanks Kai, but we'll probably just grab something in the cafeteria. Dinner would be great though."

He bows formally to her, and then to Elsa who graciously thanks him. "I bid you both a good day then."

He smiles a final time before heading back around the car and towards the driver's side. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Anna grabs her sister's unoccupied hand and leads her into the air conditioned red brick building of NYU Steinhardt, following a throng of people making their way towards their respectable classrooms.

"You're taking me to class?"

Inquisitor Elsa is back and the younger girl answers the same way she has all morning: with a quiet, all knowing grin. She leads them silently down the sub-basement of the building— two floors lower than the main floor. The trickling of students are lessening with each step taken, but upon closer inspection, the same ones heading in the same direction are also carrying bags with roughly the same items as the two sisters.

They follow the excitable group into a nondescript room and Anna tries to school her features to nonchalance because the utter confusion in Elsa's face is too comical from something she's certainly not expecting.

The long room they've entered is cold—much colder than the rest of the school at roughly sixty degrees. It feels like a welcome reprieve to the already scorching morning, but Anna knows the novelty of it won't last long. More than the apparent change in temperature though is the questionable makeshift changing stalls on both sides of the room, similar to ones seen at department stores but with a simple heavy drape used for concealment rather than solid doors.

A young woman is in the center of the room, her loud indoor voice yelling over the din, "Ladies to the right, and gentlemen to the left. We have about five minutes remaining before we can begin and I encourage everyone to get a move on."

Anna leads them both towards her, the woman giving her a look of recognition that kills the yelling just as soon as she sees them.

"Anna," she greets in mild surprise, green eyes first concentrated on her, then darting to her sister's silent form.

"I'll go to class tomorrow," the redhead says simply, forgoing the greeting. "I just really wanted to do this first…"

The woman merely nods. "Of course. I understand."

"This is my sister, Elsa. Elsa, Professor Reilly." The introduction forces her to let go of the taller girl's warm hand to give the proper gestures. "She teaches Art History here at NYU."

They exchange pleasantries and after a tense moment, her professor's eyes are on her again, the solemnity and remorse in them all Anna needs as a hint as to where the rest of this interaction would go; she's quite used to that expression by now.

"I want to offer my condolences to the both of you."

And the younger girl knows that her professor means well, but it's truly not the right time or day for her. She remains quiet, eyes falling to the floor and hand death-gripping the shopping bag as the cold grasp of impending loneliness chokes her entire form.

"I was at the funeral. I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it to the wake. Schoolwork kept me away until very late last Friday."

"It's understandable. Thank you for making the time on Saturday. You must have such a busy schedule and we can't show enough how grateful we are of your attendance regardless of it."

The younger girl's attention perks up at Elsa's composed reply, but more than that is the strong hand at the small of her back. She can feel the caress of soothing fingers even through all the layers, and that small action is able to push the heaviness in her chest away with an accompanied simple deep breath. She looks back up to her professor who seems mildly surprised by such a show of outward maturity by her sister. God knows the faculty probably don't see or get it much from her…

Anna takes advantage of her lack for words and states clearly, "We'll talk about it a bit more later professor. Maybe tomorrow. Elsa and I need to change. Less than five minutes, remember?"

This is enough to pull the woman out of star-struck reverie and into enthusiastic nods. "Of course, of course," she repeats, eyes again darting towards her and then back to the blonde. "Girls on the right."

She turns towards her sister, the small look of consternation upon her face hidden to anyone else but the smaller girl. Anna smiles crookedly, knowing she can't lie to the older girl, but not wanting to delve into this now.

"Pick a stall," the redhead instructs, pointing to an open one. "Make sure you wear _everything _in the bag over what you're wearing now. I don't want you to catch a cold."

She smiles at the disoriented look given her way and makes herself an example by going into an open stall and giving the blonde a wide grin before pulling the curtain to hide herself from plain view.

It doesn't take long for her to put everything on, and although the outfit doesn't match very well, she's warm and comfortable and that's all that will really matter in the next several hours. She grabs the now empty shopping bag and goes out of the stall, looking first to her right, and then to her left and is momentarily rewarded with the view of her sister leaving a stall and properly dressed as well. Trekking towards the older girl, she pulls out two scrunchies she had stuffed in the snowboarding pants and gives one of them to the still confused girl.

"Put your hair back in a ponytail. We'll need it up and out of the way for the activity. And stop trying to figure it out. You'll understand in a minute."

The redhead chuckles at the small sigh that comes out of the taller girl and mimics her movement by pulling all of her hair back and tying them in place. With that done, she gives a silent gesture for the blonde to follow her towards the other side of the room and, several seconds later, all the pieces finally fall in place.

Just like with her reveal yesterday, seeing the wonder in Elsa's face is ample reason to keep nice surprises from her. Light blue eyes widen and lighten in childish wonderment—excitement, possibilities, and creativity flowing in unspoken waves through her disbelieving countenance. It's an expression rarely seen by anyone. Anna would know because she herself has only seen it a handful of times, and if what her sister openly shows her is an indication of what she has and hasn't shown anyone else, she can safely assume that no one else in the world has made the taller girl feel this way before, least of all two days in a row. It's a small feat of accomplishment the younger girl can proudly proclaim unabashedly.

The room is cold—below freezing, but just like everyone there, they're bundled enough that it doesn't bother them much. The spacious, windowless confinement is bright from the many fluorescent lights overhead, but the gleam and sparkle doesn't come from it. Instead, it bounces from the countless ice blocks standing side by side all across one side of the room. The blank slate each block gives—roughly the size of a one door refrigerator—invites inventiveness, ingenuity.

Anna can't think of a more perfect way to spend this seemingly last day with her sister.

"I take it you like this idea?" the redhead asks with a triumphant grin that the blonde easily matches with one of her own accompanied by just as enthusiastic nods.

They step into the freezing room, vying away from a cluster of people making up the middle portion and stay on the outskirts near the doorway. She can already feel the chill seeping into the open portions of her face, cheeks and nose prickling at the sudden onslaught of the unexpected drop in temperature and every breath shown in the forms of disappearing fogs of wisp. Pushing gloved hands into deep side pockets, the smaller girl takes a small sweep of the huge room—certainly not a regular sized one, but maybe a built in, one of a kind, spacious freezer. She wonders briefly what other activities the university uses this room for other than this one and conjures up none too pleasant ones that make too much sense—preserving corpses and the like for the medical department isn't a farfetched guess. Better to leave the thought pushed back and out of the way…She's only glad Elsa is quite good at getting her mind out of certain thoughts.

"I'm not sure if you can ever top this one…"

Elation bubbles in her chest at hearing the awe in the older girl's voice and gives her a crinkly smile. "Challenge accepted."

Before Elsa can reply even further, the younger girl's name is heard over the general mumble of an excited vicinity, turning both of the sisters' attentions towards the door where a bundled up Kristoff ambles easily towards them, a dark green beanie covering almost all of his short blond strands, a hulkish coat and sweater combination around a just as large physique, and giant boots tied tightly over black snowboarding pants. He looks just about ready for a mountain expedition.

"Kristoff!"

"Hey, hey," he greets easily, breath fogging up against his face as he pushes the woolen scarf away from his mouth to speak better. "Didn't think you'd want to come in today…all things considering." Light brown eyes travel from the redhead to her sister, a sheepish smile overtaking a friendly face. "Nice to see you again Elsa," he greets with a small wave.

"Morning Kristoff," the blonde greets with a congenial nod and after a small bout of silence in which both of them turn to look at Anna (kind of awkwardly), the youngest of the bunch clears her throat and punches the tall man playfully by the arm.

"Oww, what the hell…?" Apparently he's not bundled quite enough…

"So funny story, Elsa," the redhead says with a wide smile, gathering her sister's undivided attention. "The first time Kristoff and I met was in this same room, two years ago."

Kristoff rolls his eyes just as his head shakes in automatic refute. "I always tell her that's wrong, but she doesn't believe me."

"We did _not_ meet at a _frat_ party."

"_You_ were too _drunk_ to remember…"

Her sister's eyes dart between hers and Kristoff's, amusement painting her visage. The blond man gives Elsa a crooked smile coated in friendly exasperation.

"Here's my story so you can have both sides and make the conclusion for yourself—

_Oh god, not the dreaded story…_

"Kristoff! Nooooo…" The redhead can't stop the whiny sound that comes with the near screech.

The tall man divulging that story in all its lackluster details to anyone else would be funny…maybe even insightful since he seems to remember it with a ridiculous amount of clarity like it's an event that only happened yesterday. But with Elsa as the only audience? Being told things Anna doesn't even remember? Finding out her type…if older girl doesn't already have an inkling?

She'd rather die…

As a last ditch effort to throw this conversation in a dark place it can't come back from, she mutters, sounding quite harassed, "Patient privacy privilege you doof."

Kristoff's eyes give a twinkle before they roll again quite obviously. "Pfft, as if you'd report me," he says with a laugh. "And the story has nothing to do with your sessions, rendering your argument moot," the young man adds with a dismissive wave and tone.

He turns his attention back towards Elsa who's stayed quiet during the whole exchange, mirth and curiosity upon her countenance, but before he can get started, much to the redhead's growing chagrin, in comes Professor Reilly in the form a pardoning angel of sorts.

"Mr. Bjorgman," she calls as she's walking towards the rows of ice blocks. "Can you be a gentleman and help me disperse these out. Anyone who's able to, get a block and get started. Please be careful and use the tools provided to help you take these to your stations. We wouldn't want a repeat of the first year debacle."

"I swear, she says that every year, no one knows what she means anymore, and it's still effective…" the blond man says with a mutter, but heads to the general direction of the professor followed by some more able bodied students. "I'll get yours Anna. Wouldn't want one of these to fall on your skinny ass."

"Stop staring at my ass perv," is Anna's easy answer, eliciting a chuckle from her sister and garnering her attention to the older girl.

"You two have a good relationship," Elsa says in between bouts of mirth, widening the smile on the younger girl's face.

"He's a good guy," she replies, unable to keep the warmth from seeping in her tone, and then huffs, fogged air riding up her face as she breathes harshly enough to send her bangs flying. "He's going to show you he's a pain in the ass in due time though…Don't believe anything he says." Knowing they're pressed for time, she turns towards a station brimming with similar black satchels tucked in a small corner of the room. "Let me get our tools. Just stay here so he knows where our station is."

She waits for the taller girl to nod before ambling her way to the work desk, snatching three satchels for her, her sister, and Kristoff. She receives several greetings on her way to and from there, familiar classmates and friends gathering her attention in little flits, and she tries to give a small reassuring smile to each one, but the saddened and sympathetic looks and condolences thrown her way make every one of them difficult.

It's hard to say that she doesn't want anyone's pity without coming off sounding callous or cold, although if she were to be completely honest, it's the main reason why she hasn't answered calls or returned them, even from her closest acquaintances, barring Kristoff. She knows what they'll say—how they'll look. It's the same expression given and shown for nearing a whole week. She keeps wishing that everyone will just magically forget even though it's relatively fresh news. Adding to this, her parents were prominent members of New York's high society and even more-so, past alumni and charity donors of NYU. Even if she herself wants to, the world around her won't allow it. And it's not as if she wants to forget that they died. It's nigh impossible because they were not only the best parents she could ever hope for, but just as wonderful people too. They were kind, thoughtful, grateful, giving—everything she wanted as a child and the not-quite-adult that she is presently. She could never forget them…but it doesn't stop her from wishing that others would take her silence and strained smiles as a clue to drop it so the pained feeling from the back of her throat, bottom of her stomach, and recesses of her chest isn't on flaring constant repeat. And it's not the pain that's the problem…even though it sounds like it. On the contrary, she's quite used to the emotional jabs on her ego, pride, and feelings. No, more than that, she's afraid of regressing back. Back to the pool of numbness where feeling nothing is the only option. It's happened before on multiple occasions. Her mind, the free entity that it sometimes wants to be, decides by itself that she's tired of feeling…in general. Pain, sadness, joy, happiness. Any emotion, whether it be positive or negative turns into nothingness. Kristoff calls it another form of defense mechanism—an emotional state of shock. Anna refers to it as a small piece of hell incapsulated in her own skin.

Not being able to feel angry is sometimes a godsend…but not being able to be happy as well?

She tries to school her features into forced nonchalance. She doesn't want Elsa to see her inner turmoil. Not today of all days…But as she makes her way back to the older girl, she knows it's impossible. For some reason, she's always known when her sister's undivided attention is locked onto her. It's not a disturbing feeling, like an invasion of privacy of sorts. Quite the opposite. It's too warm; void of malicious intent.

The redhead looks up and attempts a small smile, light blue eyes trained on her slowly walking form in heavy concentration that breaks into open understanding. She wonders if there's anyone in the world who can read her quite like Elsa can. Even with her absence these past few years, the older girl can still read her like an open book. It's not as if she tries to be mysterious or anything. Gosh knows she can't hide a secret for her life…unlike the older girl who seems to be too enigmatic at times for her own good. There are times though, like today, that Anna wishes she didn't wear her heart in her sleeve. She only hopes everyone would be courteous enough to leave her and her sister well enough alone for the remainder of the activity.

"Everything alright?" the older girl asks as they're both within ear shot of each other, worry coating a familiar, lilting voice.

Anna sighs softly, the small puff emitting a too large fog that shows her small vexation easily. "Yeah…" she answers, standing near enough that there's no space between them and she can feel the other's strong physique just from a small inadvertent lean to her direction, puffy coats and thick sweaters notwithstanding. "I want to be here, but I don't want to be here…" she says quietly, eyes dragging to familiar classmates that aren't even trying to hide curious stares laden with sympathy.

"I say ignore them and focus on this beauty instead."

Kristoff seemingly comes out of nowhere…which is close to impossible because he's dragging two of the refrigerator-sized ice blocks behind him in brute strength fashion, getting mixed looks of amazement (from the ladies) and envy (from the gentlemen) around them. It shows just how stuck she's been in her thoughts that she hadn't been able to hear him approach them, and she makes an outward gesture of shaking her head to get out of the funk she's been inadvertently placed in and gives him a grateful smile.

"Doctor's orders?" she gibes, sending light brown eyes to roll for the third time since they've met him.

"Not quite a doctor yet, but yeah…if it makes you feel better. Doctor's orders," he says with a laugh and pushes their ice block one last time so that it stands mightily in front of the two sisters. He gives the tall block a once over and a small pat…as if it's an animal that requires petting. "Any ideas on what this one will be?"

Elsa gives her a questioning look laced with curiosity that she merely grins in reply to. "Actually, I'll be the brawn and Elsa'll be the brains on this one," she announces rather easily. "Alright Elsa, what do you want us to make?"

The older girl looks taken aback by her sudden decision, but this had been Anna's plan all along—an arts collaboration of sorts. The idea had struck her when she was rifling through her sister's homework assignment that the older girl had finished the previous night and the desire to make a building of Elsa's creation seized her.

"Anything you want," she adds with a grin and seeing the possibilities blossom in the older girl's face is already enough to make this entire day worth it.

She's given a dubious look by the blonde before light blue eyes twinkle from repressed ideas bursting forth from open prospects "You're sure about 'anything'?"

"Pfft, hit me with your best shot."

Anna finds quite easily that shouldn't have said that…and in such a dismissive way…because her sister is not one to hold back when given the leeway of "anything" and her seemingly "best shot".

The blueprints she's shown from an e-mail attachment is a jarring, one of a kind, _magnificent_ palace. Funny enough…it's an _ice_ palace…as if it's been waiting this whole time to be conceived for this one moment.

"So…explain why you have a blueprint of an ice castle conveniently tucked away in your email?" the redhead asks, as she swipes the phone to look at the different angles and perspectives the older girl had painstakingly added.

The palace is against a jagged mountain, seemingly built to fit around it with no deviations to the landscape itself so it looks slightly disproportionate, with the east wing much shorter than the west wing which extends downwards and hugs the side of the rocky peak. As all the perspectives show in mind-blowing detail, there are no windows, no flying buttresses—none of the things that make a traditional palace…well…traditional. It only holds two doors, both in the same vertical alignment with three stories separating them: the main entrance and another situated in front of a balcony. The hardest part to sculpt, as far as Anna can see would probably be the long bridge like stairs that connect the entrance of the structure to a lower part of the mountain, separated by a seemingly wide abyss, but if she can pull it off…it would look spectacularly dazzling in a three dimensional form.

She looks up when her query is met with silence, and her curiosity is piqued even further when she sees the discomfort in her sister's face.

"Elsa?"

The older girl sighs, countenance so conflicted the redhead isn't sure what she should do for a moment before stepping closer, ready to console the blonde with a bone crushing hug if need be.

"It started off as a joke, actually."

"Something tells me it's not very funny."

Seeing the return of the self-deprecating smile on her sister's face only proves that what she says rings some truth.

"It stems from jealousy…nothing too major."

And the easy dismissal only makes the situation sound that much graver. "Your classmates?" The guess isn't very hard, seeing as Anna's had her fair share of green eyed peers herself. But from her sister's viewpoint it must be even more astounding and numerous in comparison to hers. "Is it safe to say you do pretty well within your graduating class?" she asks, fishing for more and hoping the expedition won't turn her murderous.

The blonde nods, albeit demurely…as if it's not a big feat and nothing to be proud of. "Top," she replies quietly and then shrugs. "Honestly though, it doesn't bother me…It's petty, I was bored one day in class because we were covering old material, and I figured the ice queen needs her own ice castle to become legitimized, or at least look the royal part."

It takes a brief moment for the redhead to connect the dots, but when she does, an angry eruption flares at the back of her throat. At that exact moment, nothing could satiate her more than punching all of Elsa's classmates in the face.

An ice queen? An _ice_ queen?!

Loud refute itches to burst out, but instead her free hand not death-gripping the cellphone, comes up to grasp her face, rough gloves pressed tightly over her eyes and temple.

An ice queen…

She wants to laugh at the absurdity of the claim…Nothing could be further from the truth. Elsa is anything, but the metaphorical ice queen persona. She's not cold…ruthless…worst of all unfeeling…She's the exact opposite! She's…the shadowy reprieve of a protective tree in a too hot day; the cool rejuvenating breeze in the middle of a stifling summer; the warm, but strong pillar of support that no one else has even the ability to mimic let alone _be._

The redhead's quite aware of the pissed off look on her face, the mantra of _'Not today, not today'_ on constant blaring repeat in her mind, but some sort of payback for her sister's woe feels owed.

One thing's for sure…if she ever visits Elsa in LA and even hears the words ice and queen put together in the same sentence—it doesn't have to be in tandem—the unfortunate person will be in the receiving end of a vicious right hook.

She's taken out of her dark reverie with a simple touch upon her shoulder, her eyes, deferred to the floor while busy thinking of ways to cause harm to strangers she hasn't even met yet, finally looking up to inquisitive light blues. There's a dismissive smile upon her sister's countenance, and just from that she has an inkling of what the taller girl will say even before she gets it out.

"Yes, it is a big deal. No, I refuse to let it go."

Elsa merely sighs and grips her shoulder tighter. "It's not as if the title is unfounded. I mean…look at me."

Anna's eyes narrow at the implications of the words uttered. Because she finally sees that it's not just an ugly insult thrown without care which is what it most likely started as, but manifested into something the older girl wholeheartedly believes, and that…is unforgivable.

"I see an amazing girl," she states resolutely, light blue eyes widening at her boldness. Clinks of tools, a chainsaw off in the corner slicing large portions of ice, and general mumble surround them, but she doesn't pay attention to them. Her eyes merely dart from one astounded light blue orb to the other. "I see someone who's warm and kind, both in and out. Someone who works hard to get what she wants without trampling over others to get where she is now. Someone who painstakingly plans others' wellbeing disregarding her own.

"You and I probably don't see the same thing Elsa, but take it from someone who won't profit from ugly name calling. I've known you all of my life—sans five years that we'll eventually patch together. You're not an ice queen. I refuse to think of that as a legitimate title for _anything _regarding who you are_. _It's an insult formed by some jealous kid who can't muster up the same talent and brains so they have to resort to petty name calling. Don't get sucked in by baseless notions from people who don't know the first thing about you."

She breathes in deeply, lungs chilled from the intake of frozen air, but she matches her sister's widened eyes with her narrowed ones, unapologetic at her outward monologue and wanting now, more than ever, to find the culprit who started the ridiculous name and pummel him or her to the ground. Even more than that though is to satiate the need make sure—really make sure—that Elsa is okay. To ensure that the other girl can get over this emotional hurdle that's been in place for what seems to be _years_. It's the first time the redhead's ever seen her sister in this light—vulnerable because of malicious intent, and the growing need to protect her from it supersedes everything.

Anna feels the hand over her shoulder begin to retract and reflexively catch it with her gloved hand. She's still angry at the situation, but again the mantra of '_not today'_ fills her mind. Elsa's expression is apologetic and the redhead definitely doesn't want it from her of all people, but she has to get over it…for now.

Her grip tightens against the other curled with her own and her attention turns towards the still untouched ice block. Ten feet away, Kristoff is making headway with his project, an outline of what seems to be a four legged animal of some sort pulling what would probably be a sled, but is currently another block of ice.

"We should get started," the redhead says quietly, swiping at the phone that she had forgotten clutched in her bare right hand. She gives the drawings another look over, her other hand still holding her sister's hand tightly before looking up at her with a strained smile. "You do realize that this project is a testament to how wrong they are…"

Elsa's look turns questioning and the adorable expression lightens up Anna's face and mood exponentially.

"Something so beautiful can't have been made by someone so allegedly cold or heartless or…lifeless…or whatever that stupid title is supposed to mean…"

Her rambling, in the form of grunts and mutters, reduces the older girl to chuckles, and she's pulled into a small side hug that she leans into quite easily.

They stay that way for a small moment, unhindered, before the redhead moves slowly away and breathes rather loudly, eyes trained at their unmarred block of ice.

"We need…the chainsaw…I think."

"Is…that safe?"

"Probably not if I'm handling it…I mean…it's a small chainsaw. Not one of those industrial timber forest ones, but…let's just say Professor Reilly has banned me from using it…forever."

Elsa's look turns slightly worried and curious. "Is that what she meant by the first year debacle?"

Anna shakes her head. "Nah, she refuses to even talk about that one…and it happened a long time ago. Mine…let's just say half of the class had to wait for a new shipment of ice…and dad had to donate a bit more that year to the school than any of the other years prior…" She grins at the combination of a confused and proud smirk thrown her way before attempting to flag down her blond friend. "Kristoff! I need help. C'mere and shape this for us."

The motor of a Craftsman chainsaw fills the air momentarily, drowning all the other noise around them, and within a few minutes, she can safely say that they can begin working.

O—O

"Heading to the cafeteria for some grub. You ladies want anything?"

Anna looks up from her kneeling position, a short chisel in one hand and the other brushing away falling ice chips. A couple feet away, Elsa is busying herself with sculpting the mountain, light blue eyes heavy in concentration as the sound of the drill whirs in random, whiny intervals.

At the start of hour one, they had both come to a mutual agreement of handling separate parts of the sculpture. The task of building the palace, requiring much needed delicacy from the overt attention to detail per Elsa's outline, is given easily to Anna who, out of the two of them, at least has some experience with the activity. The blonde, afraid of messing up any portion of the project, was at first hesitant in assisting, but at the younger girl's vehement insistence, finally relented in at least shaping the jagged mountain. At hour two, she had taken to chipping the ice block with a wakar chisel, her pretty face marred with anxiety—it looked as if she was afraid of cutting the entire block in half with one wrong move, regardless of how many times the redhead assures her that it's an almost impossible feat. At hour three…she had gotten bolder, much to Anna's relief and amusement, trying out the different tools provided to them via the satchel and other tools situated around the room. At hour four, the blonde had acquainted herself with the drill and drill bits. She had not looked back since.

"Elsa," the younger girl calls, waving her arm so that she can catch her sister's attention through the racket.

Shimmering light blue eyes glance at her through see-through lab goggles, and the sight of her with mismatched snow gear and eyes alight with palpable excitement is so heartwarming that it takes all of Anna's self-control to not get up and hug her, regardless of how random the action would be.

The whine of the drill ceases around them, straight, white teeth sparkling at her in outward elation and causing the same expression to be mimicked back to the older girl.

"Hungry?"

The question takes the blonde aback, and it looks like she has to think about it first before answering, "Now that you mention it, kind of."

Anna laughs, knowing full well how easy it is to lose herself in her art and loving that she can share this seemingly little thing with the older girl. "Kristoff's gonna head over to the cafeteria. What would you like?"

Elsa merely shrugs, index finger firing at the drill trigger and causing it to spasm in noise every couple of seconds. "Anything. Choose for us."

The redhead looks back up to Kristoff who only waits patiently and silently, an easy smile atop his handsome features as he glances back between her and her sister's interaction. "Get me an unagi bowl and Elsa chiraishi. Please and thank you."

"Got it," he says with a small nod and begins heading out of the freezing room.

"I have some cash in my inside pants if…"

Elsa trails off as she and the blond both give her a dismissive wave of the hand.

"It's my turn today. No sweat Elsa," Kristoff says with a grin and leaves without further explanation, causing the blonde to look at Anna with a questioning look.

The younger girl turns her attention back towards the ice palace and continues what she had been doing prior to the interruption. "First year we started becoming good friends we'd always one-up each other, especially when it came to food," she begins explaining, eyes heavy in concentration at making sure she doesn't go too far on the indentations with the carver clutched tightly in her gloved hand. "Like…if we were meeting somewhere for lunch, he or I would always foot the bill without the other's knowledge. Turned into some crazy form of competition. Like…we went grocery shopping once for a classmate's house party. He turned his back and I paid for everything in his cart. Likewise, I made some offhand comment about needing some art supplies while we were in a crafts store and he goes and buys it for me. It got kind of ridiculous so we came to an agreement that it's strictly on food and he pays for lunch on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays if we were to meet up, and I'll pay for the other days, minus Mondays. Mondays are still no holds barred days."

When she looks up, she's surprised to see such a warm expression on her sister's face and it's explained momentarily as the older girl says quite softly, "I'm glad to see that you have such a good and close friend."

Anna can't help the sheepish smile that radiates from her face. She tries to play it off with a casual shrug, but knows she's somewhat failing at it. "It's weird 'cuz he and I are…really, very different…but we get along so well."

"Kind of like us?"

"Jealous Elsa? Don't worry, there's no competition."

Light blue eyes roll heavily at her small joke causing the redhead to release a peal of laughter at seeing the exasperation on her sister's face.

"But no…not like us." Anna doesn't notice the seriousness creep into her voice because in the next moment she's too busy paying attention to the sculpture before her, digging the carver in and brushing more of the ice chips off of its frozen surface as they become permanently detached. "Maybe at a more shallow level…it could be a fraction of what we have…but as I said, there really is no competition…and he's what I would consider my closest friend. Aren't you lucky?"

Anna looks back up, a wide smile following her jest, but it falls flat when she's met with a serious, concentrated face sported by the taller girl. She reads wonder in that pretty visage, eyes sparkling back at her in fascination and reverence, and in that same instance that face lights up in a bright, luminescent smile.

Elsa nods in heartfelt agreement. "Yes, I am."

And the sincerity is more than ample enough to skitter her eyes back down to the sculpture and give it more attention than it deserves, a hot blush riding from the bottom of her neck all the way to her forehead. Her sister merely laughs at her reaction, and she wonders how it's possible for the taller girl to reduce her to a love struck teenager with just a few choice words.

Kristoff comes back sooner than they expected which finally merits a good reason for a break. The majority of the people in the room had, by this time, already gone to lunch or finished it, the sisters and the young man one of the last few inattentive enough of hunger due to the enthusiasm on the project.

The three of them get out of the freezer box (because that's what it literally feels like according to Anna), and she and Elsa don off their extra layers so that the invitation of a heat stroke becomes less likely.

After being in the below freezing room for several hours, the drastic change in temperature feels jarring, prickles from her thighs, fingertips, and cheeks itching in repetition.

At her insistence for fresh air, they grab their coats and make their way back up towards the main floor of the building, exiting from the backside rather than the main entrance. They find solace from the stifling heat in the form of a large oak tree, place their coats evenly on the grass below it in a messy triangular fashion and without further ado begin a late lunch.

"Thank you for the meal Kristoff," Elsa says with her usual congenial nod as she breaks off the chopsticks that came with the bowls and rub them together to make sure no splinters, remain before handing it to the redhead.

"Not a problem," the young man replies with an easy shrug, pulling back the wrapper on what looks to be a meatball sub before taking a big bite of it.

Anna thanks the older girl with a smile before opening up her unagi bowl, and for at least five minutes, a peaceful companionable silence stretches between the three of them to ensure the filling of hungry bellies.

At the six minute mark in which most of Kristoff's sub is gone, he turns to Elsa, much to Anna's chagrin, and gives her a wicked grin. "I owe you a story, don't I?"

"Kristoff!"

But her childish whine have fallen to deaf ears, and she can feel her sister's attention pique in interest again so there's nothing she can really do. Sighing loudly so that both of them can hear it, she looks back down at her food and shove some more sweet vinegar rice in her mouth to stave off the grumble wanting to erupt in the back of her throat. She feels Elsa's hand rub the bottom of her back in comfort, the gentle albeit subdued curious smile upon the older girl's visage enough to make her sigh again before completely giving in.

Really though, what's the hurt in Elsa knowing everything about her? She's eventually going to know all the imperfections that make up her little sister.

Anna wonders briefly if there's anything she can divulge that would make her sister run away screaming to the next city over, and she's so lost in thought that she doesn't notice how the distance between their coats become nonexistent until a warm palm is curled around her waist, all of her right side touching the taller girl's left. She leans into the protective half hug, showing complete resignation upon her freckled visage to the inquiring older girl who only looks back at her in silent question. It feels as if they're speaking without actually speaking.

_We don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable._

_Nah…it's fine. You'll eventually have to know everything anyway. Might as well get an outsider's viewpoint while we're at it._

A couple of seconds elapse with nothing but this before Elsa nods in understanding and looks up to her friend who has apparently been watching the two of them interact in barely concealed fascination.

"You can start whenever," the older girl smiles, forcing the young man out of his reverie.

He g"It was a cold, October night—

"Lay off the dramatics Kristoff…"

The blond laughs, leaning into the oak tree behind him and looks at Elsa evenly. Anna recognizes that look. It's what she likes to coin his therapist face. From past experience when she'd begin their sessions with an interesting story or if he gives his intake on a problem, he'd have his observant face on—light brown eyes heavy in concentration at the subject's facial expressions, body language, and more importantly, how they'll react to a few choice words and questions. He might still be in residence, and they have a running gag about him being the best therapist in all of New York (certainly the only one who can stomach Anna and vice versa), but when he gets fully accredited, the redhead knows he'll be a force to be reckoned.

"I met Anna at a house party a frat was throwing out more than a year and a half ago," he begins, undivided attention graced on the older girl, and hers, likewise. It feels rather funny to the younger girl to be spoken this way as if she's not here, but the comforting rubs at her waist assures her that Elsa is still quite aware of her presence. "When I get there, the majority of the people were drunk. Like…pass out or nearing pass out drunk. I…for some reason I like to go to those parties strictly to watch people. I don't know…like there's something fascinating about watching humans get in touch with their primal side when all inhibitions are thrown out the window."

"Understandable," Elsa replies with a nod.

"So I get there, and it's relatively packed, and the first time I see Anna, she's chatting up with this girl."

The redhead releases a grunt mutter groan combination that only stops the young man enough to make him chuckle and for Elsa's arm to tighten around her embarrassed form in a silent show of consolation.

"They're both pretty inebriated, Anna less so than this girl, but not by much, and from what I can tell from the body language and lewd grins—

"Kristoff!"

"The night was going to be a good one."

"Oh god, kill me…"

Elsa's tinkling laughter resounds in her ears, the older girl's fingers coming up to brush her bangs lovingly as she continues to huff rather loudly.

"So she becomes one of my persons of interest for the evening and I juggle observing her along with a few other choice people. As the night progresses though…something in their interaction changed. All the other subjects have, by this point, passed out or gone upstairs, but Anna, she's still talking to this girl who is all but throwing herself at her now and…from the looks of it, Anna's refusing to go all the way."

The smaller girl laughs, a heavy hand rubbing at her eyes before she turns her head and buries her entire face into her sister's smooth neck. Today, there's a high chance she could die of embarrassment.

"And they start making out—

"Stop stalking people you perv…"

"But just as suddenly, Anna's saying goodbye and is already halfway to the door," Kristoff exclaims, unhindered by the redhead's retort. "I'm confused. The _girl_ is confused. Anna's…she's gone. No backwards look, no hesitance…nothing. And I'm sitting there, pondering with myself, 'Is there anyone in the world that tries to pick up a girl for more than three hours, makes a headway, gets an in, and then just says, 'Nah forget it' when she knows it's all but a sealed deal?' It boggled my mind! I…literally, I stayed up that night thinking of how absurd it is!"

They all share a pointed laughter, two pairs of eyes looking at her in confusion that she just stares dumbly back at before Kristoff continues, "So the next day, I'm tired. I need coffee. I go to the campus Starbucks and…hey hey…the same girl that's kept me up is there and chatting up another girl."

"You jerk…"

"Now this girl…have…have you ever met any of Anna's past girlfriends?"

"Jenna," Elsa answers easily at the sudden question.

"You've met Jenna?" There's incredulity in his voice, which doesn't surprise the redhead. If it was up to her, Elsa would never have to meet any of her past exes regardless of how mutual the breakup happened to be.

"I'm sure Anna didn't want me to, but yes. She visited the house a couple days back to ensure Anna's wellbeing when she wouldn't answer her phone."

"Do you remember what Jenna looks like?"

"I hate you…This is _totally_ going off patient privacy…" Anna mutters, the sound muffled due to an expanse of Elsa's shirt on her lips.

The older girl attempts to placate her with a gentle rub on her back, but answers nonetheless, "Pretty. Sophisticated. Tall. Blonde. Possibly older than Anna because she exudes a mature air. Possibly smart, but I didn't get to talk to her very long so I can't gauge that as well as the physical aspects."

"She's in medical school. We shared some classes a year or so back," Kristoff answers the unasked query.

"I doubt my sister's one for dating stupid people, so I'm not very surprised."

The young man laughs at her sister's forward statement, but nods nonetheless. "Well, from the ten hours that your sister had plagued my mind and from the observances taken from her chatting up the barista, I was able to profile, at least her 'type' quite easily."

"Kill me now…"

"It's not always a surefire formula, but at the very least it piques her interest," Kristoff continues on, unhindered. "I would've dropped the subject and considered it a coincidence if not for the fact that she and I would end up spending the next eight hours together for that year's ice sculpting project that very same day and she showed, time and time again, that she has a way of gravitating towards a certain type of girl: pretty, smart, _platinum _blonde, sophisticated, mature. I call it Anna's big five. Now, in the eight hours that I end up observing her some more, in which, again, she spends the majority chatting up _another _girl—

"God, I hate you…"

"I find that the big five is merely a starting criteria—close enough to merit her attention, but other factors may or may not turn her away. For example, girl at three o'clock."

She lifts her head up from her sister's comfortable neck line to see what Kristoff is pointing to, only to groan that much louder and flop resignedly to the grass, back first and eyes flitting at the rays of sunshine filtering through green leaves.

It was the same girl she was chatting up a year and a half ago…of course…and as the blond man is apt to explain, a poster girl of "her type". Anna's not surprised she's there, considering she's probably been in the same room as the three of them for the majority of the day—Anna just hasn't been paying attention enough to notice it.

"Elizabeth Nichols, a surface candidate based on Anna's big five. Chatted her up for, I kid you not, _seven _of the eight hours we were working and at the end of the day, nothing. Just like the other night with the other girl…nothing. Anna gets done with her sculpture, leaves, and…Elizabeth kinda stands there for a minute wondering what went wrong. I was just as curious, so with nothing to really lose, I run after her and the first thing I say, without preamble, was, 'So do you mean to flirt for hours on end with no result in mind, or are you so innocent that you don't see these girls are actively into you and would like…maybe at least a cup of coffee after?'"

Anna laughs, remembering how creeped out she was of the sudden, burly guy walking next to her with the most frustrated look upon a handsome, albeit large nosed visage.

Kristoff shrugs. "She said I was a creep, she didn't make a habit of talking to strangers, and walked away even faster. Of course not having an answer only invites a higher form of curiosity, so I profile her, corner her one day, tell her everything that I've observed, and the rest, as they say, is history. See Anna? That wasn't that bad."

_Yeah…it was even worse…_

Her eyes flitter up to Elsa who continues to look down at her with a soft smile upon a delicate countenance. She sees the many questions firing in the older girl's face, and she knows they'll have to speak of it after in the relative safety and privacy of her or the other girl's room. In the back of her mind, she knows this was a part of Kristoff's plans—to get the two of them in the same page in regards to what the future might hold before the older girl's sudden departure. And while she understands why he had to go into such fine detail about _everything_ it doesn't make the entire situation that much easier. On the contrary it probably made it harder, but she wasn't expecting anything to be easy in the first place—no harm, no foul. At the very least this conversation has given her an opening on how she and Elsa can breach the subject of her exes before anymore of them spawn unexpectedly. God knows the encounter with Jenna, even though she wasn't present in the room for some of it, was awkward enough by itself, and that was with an ex turned friend. She can't fathom how it would be like if the older girl were to meet some of her more sour endings.

"Well," Kristoff says with a puff, gathering their trash and getting up with the help of the oak tree's trunk. "We have roughly…four hours before they close the freezer box for the day. Something tells me you two would like to get done with yours, so lets head back."

Anna nods in resigned agreement, getting up and helping her sister up as well with a strong tug of the arm. The day has gone by too fast for her liking, and it feels like she has so much more to do before the sun sinks over the horizon. The inevitable feeling of failure seizes her, but before she can ruminate on it further, strong, warm fingers are grasping her own in a familiar hold, and she can't help the bright, wide smile that crosses her face as she looks up at the older girl.

"I'm still here."

The words take her aback momentarily before warmth bursts in her system, her smile widening to a tandem grin.

She nods, holding the hand against hers tighter. "Thanks for reminding me."

O—O

"This is…quite amazing."

Pride swells in her as she wipes stray ice chips marring the otherwise smooth surface of her and Elsa's project with a fine bristle brush. Professor Reilly stands evenly next to her, appraising eyes combing every nuance, bump, edge, and detail of the ice palace and mountain that they had just finished.

"Is it from memory?" she asks while shaking her head in refute to her own question. "It feels too precise for something out of someone's head."

"It's Elsa's creation," Anna answers, bursting with even more pride at the mention of Elsa's lasting contribution to the sculpture that turned out even more spectacular in a three dimensional form. Just as she hoped and knew it to be.

She grabs the older's girl's phone that they had kept atop one of the satchels, swiping through the home screen before a picture of the blueprint appears and handing it to a curious professor.

The teacher's eyes rake through the outline, nodding silently in reigned awe. She looks up at Elsa, wonderment hiding behind green irises before asking, "Are you an architect?"

"In school," her sister answers easily, grabbing the phone as it's handed to her by the young woman.

"Well, you're very good at it." She smiles and then looks at the redhead, her professional face back on to replace the one in excited admiration. "Anna, your abilities have evolved highly from the last couple of times we've done this. Very good job. This is a high candidate for the centerpiece in the summer showcase. You should add it to your growing portfolio."

Anna can only nod obediently, grinning at her sister who mirrors her sentiment when the professor leaves to make the rest of her rounds.

"She's right though," Kristoff says from behind her, gathering their attention as he gives a small appraisal to their work as well, pitching a high whistle when he gets a clear view of the palace. He grins at Elsa and waggles his brown bushy eyebrows at her. "Maybe you can make me an outline for next year."

The older girl smiles at him easily. "Shouldn't be too hard."

He smiles at her easy, genuine answer before giving the redhead a small look, sighing loudly and dramatically at the expression he reads from her face. "I'm guessing you wanna GTFO?"

Anna gives him her best open toothed smile. "Please?"

"I'll clean up. You two get outta here."

She bear hugs him from sheer reflex. "Thanks Kristoff! See you…maybe tomorrow? Lunch? Something? I'll be attending class…hopefully…maybe."

He grins exasperatedly at her ramble, but nods nonetheless. "Tomorrow," he agrees and turns to a waiting blonde. "Elsa, nice to see you again. Hopefully it won't be the last time?"

The older girl shakes her head and smiles back amicably. "No, certainly not. Thank you again for lunch…the food and everything else that came with it."

Anna groans loudly between them, heat flashing up to her cheeks again from the remembrance of their meal period.

Kristoff just laughs loudly at her growing mortification. "More where that came from," he assures, and winks at the redhead, much to her growing chagrin. "'Til, then."

It takes only a few minutes to don off all of their extra layers again, stuffing them in their respective shopping bags before going upstairs to the main entrance where Kai awaits patiently by the curb. The sun is high and still beating relentlessly into the busy street—the two girls thankful of the AC as soon as they clamber in the parked car.

A wholehearted hug is given to her just as Kai drives them into the brimming New York city traffic, the action eliciting an elated surprise that she returns even though she's not quite sure of the reason for the sudden affection.

"Thank you," Elsa breathes out, hugging her tighter as soft lips press firmly on her right temple. "Thank you for sharing this with me."

She unconsciously takes in the older girl's lovely, clean scent, her long arms coming around the older girl's waist. The impending separation, blaring in repetition in the back of her mind, feels even closer now that they're not quite busy doing anything, and she can't help the tightening of her hold on the older girl as the helplessness dawns on her that their time together is limited and waning by the second.

"Of course," she can only reply silently, unable to hide the grief from coating her voice.

But Elsa understands, as she always has, and merely holds her, dainty fingers pulling out the scrunchy from her messy ponytail and carding through her copper strands in relative ease. The feeling the action elicits is familiar, her chest bursting in warmth and devotion as she rests her cheek upon the older girl's neck once more. She's starting to think that this may be her favorite spot in the entire world and grins sheepishly to herself of the fact.

She's acutely aware that the privacy screen is up, and she wonders briefly if Kai had done that purposefully, but doesn't give it much further thought. Right now, it feels like it hardly matters if everyone can see just how affectionate they are to each other—being on a timer does that apparently…make everything that much more insignificant.

The silence remains, strong but comfortable, her sister busying herself with combing through her hair in soft repetition while she rolls the fabric of the older girl's shirt mindlessly with her fingers.

A small, "Oh!" catches her attention after another few minutes as well as the straightening of Elsa's back against her plied form. She follows her sister's attentive body and understands the reaction quickly. Kai must've driven an alternate route towards home today.

She presses on the intercom and states, "Kai. Can we stop by here? Maybe for a half an hour or so?"

The privacy window lowers, their driver smiling warmly at them from the rearview mirror before the older gentleman nods. "Of course. As you wish," he answers swiftly and slows the car into a turn, heading into the long entranceway of Weselton Private High School.

Anna smiles at the blonde whose appraising eyes look over everything, from the towering and expansive three story brick building, to the imposing stadium visible through a clutter of pine trees. Not a lot has changed outwardly as far as the younger girl can see, but she knows Elsa must see it differently, considering she hasn't laid eyes on their old stomping grounds for years.

As soon as the car is parked neatly into the curbed cul-de-sac, the younger girl pries the door open and motions for Elsa to follow. It's nearing six in the evening, but a good amount of students still loitered the area, the majority giving them inquisitive looks as they stride purposefully to the entrance of the school.

"Wow," Elsa breathes, light blue eyes darting every which way and causing Anna to smile goofily at her look of fascination. "How can it look familiar and different all at the same time?"

Anna pulls one of the many heavy metal double doors, holding it open for the taller girl as they make their way inside the building. She's always wondered how schools can all smell similarly—a peculiar combination of cleaning supplies, paper, and heat. It's not a bad smell, but certainly not a lilting aroma either. It's very neutral, and it only dawns on her years later that the building certainly does have a peculiar scent to it that triggers nostalgia and memories that had been dormant in her mind prior.

"Ms. Andersen…and Ms. Andersen."

They turn their attention to a nasally, old voice and hearing her last name in that familiar manner is enough to have her spine stand on attention, memories of sitting in front of the principal/owner of the academy staring back at her with his sharp, dark blue eyes coming to the forefront of her brain.

Mr. Weselton the…third? Fourth? Fifth of his name? Anna didn't care much to remember when she was in attendance at the school and so the information never fully assimilated, but the old man before them is the same as she remembers him, right down to the grey questionable mustache and toupee that apparently no one has yet to tell him looks quite obviously fake. His mouth is up in a surprise quirk at seeing the two of them, the redhead noticing how it grows a tad warmer when his attention is divided to her sister more than hers. It's quite understandable though…especially during and after her aforementioned sophomore year. They hadn't seen a lot, if anything, eye to eye then and she doubts that kind of surface animosity will ever die down. Elsa, on the other hand, the old man had revered. She still remembers the many choice words he had spewed when constantly berating her for any and all in-school misconduct during her last three years at the private school.

_"__This is the kind of thing I would not expect from an Andersen, least of all Elsa's younger sister!" _

_"__Elsa was the perfect student. Valedictorian, ASB president, the perfect role model. If you could only follow her footsteps, we wouldn't be having this conversation…Does the apple really fall that far from the tree?"_

Anna does not miss this short, vile man at all…There's a perfectly good reason why all of the students (and some faculty) call him Weaseltown when his back is turned.

"Principal Weselton, it's nice to see you again," Elsa says, complete with a cordial nod and smile.

The redhead's always quite amazed at how diplomatic she can be without showing any outward effort.

The old man smiles widely, his wrinkly face stretching with the strained expression—as if he doesn't smile too often and is exercising unused facial muscles. "Elsa," he says with a small bow, his toupee peeling slightly off and causing uncontrollable laughter from Anna's end that she tries to stifle with a well placed cough. Elsa, as usual, is better composed, but the mirth and ridiculousness from seeing it is shown quite clearly in her twinkling light blue eyes. "It's nice to see you again. I tried speaking with the two of you during the wake, but you were both too busy. Very understandable, considering all circumstances," he says gravelly, compassion coating his voice, but not reaching his dark blue eyes.

The younger girl wants to retort that the avoidance hadn't been an accident, but reigns herself in, Elsa giving an apologetic smile for the two of them. "We understand Principal Weselton, and we thank you for your attendance. "

He waves her words away, eyes darting back and forth to her and the redhead. "So…what can I help you with?"

"Just visiting," the blonde replies with a simple smile, arm hooking around the younger girl's elbow naturally. "We were passing by, I haven't been here for awhile, and I wanted to come in—see if there are any changes and whatnot. We were heading to the office to claim visitor's badges, but we saw you first."

He gives her a well placed smile. "Ahh, well I could always count on you to be very diligent about everything…" His trail off incites obvious insinuation, and Anna reels her annoyance in—she has the vaguest feeling a retort would get her kicked out, but not the older girl, and any time away from Elsa at this point feels too valuable for a short term victory. "You can forget about the badge and make your way around comfortably. If you'd like, I can show—

"I think we can manage by ourselves, thank you very much." The edge is too obvious in her tone, and she cringes inwardly at how aggressive she must come off. Elsa's hand upon her elbow tightens, the blonde giving a diplomatic smile to their old principal who merely narrows his eyes at the younger girl.

"I'm sure you have a lot of things better to do with twice the importance is what my sister means to say, Principal Weselton," she says with an easy, placating smile. "Anna and I will be fine by ourselves…and we promise not to stay too long. Thirty minutes, max."

It takes a moment before he's mollified by her easy words and gives her a nod, narrowing his eyes at the redhead and jutting his chin out before turning away and back into the faculty office.

"You two are definitely not in good terms," Elsa's the first to speak as soon as the old man is out of earshot.

Anna chuckles with an added eye roll as they begin making their way to the east wing of the school, passing by a few more opened metallic double doors and many empty classrooms as they stroll leisurely in.

"Let's just say I wasn't the role model student, unlike someone I know…"

She means for it to be a jest, even though there's an underlying truth to her words, and she isn't expecting any sort of statement from her sister in regards to it, but the sentence, replied softly, is caught easily by strained ears.

"That irks me just as much as it irks you, just so you know."

She's surprised to hear the easy admission from the older girl and fixes her a disbelieving stare that doesn't disappear soon enough. Upon her sister's visage is annoyance, as if a noisy fly won't leave her alone and she can't kill it because it's far below her.

Light blue eyes stare fixedly at the faraway spot in front of them, her jaw set as she states, "They don't know the first thing about us, yet they corral us in perfect boxes of their assumption. It's quite annoying to always be asked why I'm not always as positive as you are—why I can't make friends or join clubs easily or…even _smile_ as easily as you do. And for you…" Her sister's stare passes towards her, flickering annoyance and resignation among the navy blue specks. "It must be a pain to always be compared and in essence contrasted to me."

How is it possible for her to be able to hit the nail right at the head?

A self-deprecating smile flitters up Anna's face without her knowledge, eyes deferring to the floor as thoughts of her conversation with Kristoff just the night before enters her mind and fills it to the brim.

They reach the end of the hallway and begin their descent down some concrete steps, Elsa's hand still holding tightly at the crook of her arm. Funnily enough, they came in here to see the school and the changes that might've occurred within the last few years since their dismissal, but neither of them are paying attention much to anything, but at their current topic of heavy conversation.

"We can't help what they think," Anna says softly, the words coming out with less conviction than she wanted. "It's pretty much set in stones in unwritten rules of sibling-hood. We're going to get compared to the other and one of us has to be the loser in the end."

"And I can only hope that you don't think it's you."

"It would make the most sense, considering what people see outwardly."

"What do _you_ see outwardly."

Her throat dries up at the loaded question, and she knows Elsa is looking at her inquisitively but she can't return her stare.

"It would seem obvious…" she trails off, her voice barely distinguishable in her own ears.

"Not to me," the older girl replies, and if it came from anyone else it would seem like an obvious fishing expedition, but when said by her sister, it's genuine and just a little bit confused. "We only shared that one year in school…but it was eye opening enough that I was glad I left early in the culmination of it."

The small disclosure leaves her just a bit baffled. Elsa had never given any outward indication that she had wanted to leave school early, just that she could, and if it's doable, then why the heck not?

Before they're both quite aware of it, they're back at the main hall standing at the outskirts of the cafeteria. Oddly enough it's the same exact place Anna had stood almost six years back. The capacious area is devoid of people, the lunch tables sparkling in industrial bleach cleanliness, and wordlessly, as if they both know exactly where they need to be, they descend the couple of steps that surround the sunken area and move onto the upper right corner of the room, eyes fixed on one specific table as they stride determinedly closer.

Anna pats the tabletop affectionately first before sitting down, followed closely by the older girl who smiles at her amusedly after seeing what she had just done.

"What? I like this table!" she says in mock defense. "A lot of good memories just from sitting here…"

They sit so that their sides are completely touching even though the entire table is devoid of company unlike how it was years ago. They had sat together just like this during that time to make room for other classmates and friends, and as time and time has shown her again, old habits die hard. The splash of nostalgia hits her, akin to being under a rushing waterfall, and she breathes in deeply to center herself before crossing her arms across the cold table and resting her head over it, face turned towards the older girl who merely watches her with inquisitive eyes.

"It's funny how you bring up the same thing Kristoff and I were just speaking about last night."

Light blue eyes widen in surprise at her small disclosure, but she had wanted to open up every part of her to the older girl for a while, and the talk this afternoon gave her an opening—she just has to take it and hope it gets her somewhere that doesn't hurt in the end.

"When we started high school, I was quite aware of the social hierarchy and where I stood," she begins, eyes darting to the wide windows to their left. Her eyes land on a practicing baseball team, but doesn't really see them, her mind taking her elsewhere. "Freshman versus senior; younger, pestering sister versus overachiever older sibling. We were close at home, but for some reason, a part of me knew that we somehow had to play a part in high school, especially when we'd have that year together and people—our peers, classmates we've known throughout our lives and know a bit of us in return—can finally see how we are as siblings. I was a bit afraid at first…I mean, it's not as if I haven't been compared to you before. In middle school, people heard it all the time from teachers we happened to share. 'Oh, you're Elsa's little sister? She was amazing. Smart, talented, put all of her effort in every single thing. The _perfect _student.' Many had such high expectations, it was virtually impossible to achieve them.

"This was in the forefront of my mind when I began high school. Ecstatic that I would finally be in the same building as you for the majority of our day—maybe even the possibility of sighting you in between classes. Dread that people would see our outlying differences and they'll notice that I'm the inferior Andersen. That in comparison, you were the poster daughter for who mom and dad are and I'm the black sheep no one would want to introduce during party galas."

She's a bit amazed at how easy it is to say all that she wants to say considering how long she's bottled them up, but the thought doesn't last long. She only shrugs helplessly, looks fleetingly and sees understanding dawn on the older girl and with it, a just as helpless, grim smile. The blonde's fingers comb over her hair again, strands delicately carded over as Elsa also places an arm over the table before placing her head upon it, their faces a half a foot apart and vulnerable eyes staring into just as open faces.

"The basis of 'ice queen' didn't start in college."

Anna can feel her eyes widen and then narrow in an almost simultaneous fashion at the forward confession, the obscenities dying in her throat at the simple shake of her sister's head.

"The end of elementary school? Middle school? I remember being young, and the running jokes had been roughly the same: teacher's pet, robot, the list goes on and on. Outwardly, of course, I didn't let anyone see how much it bothered me, and in due time, I could safely say that it worked. I had been able to separate my feelings from academia and since the latter was easier to pursue, not to mention boasting a more profitable margin if you put your future in stock, I was able to devote myself fully into it. It's not to say it was easy at first, what with the running gags and jokes from immature classmates, but in due time…sticks and stones, right?"

The redhead shakes her head in outward vehemence, wanting nothing more than splitting the heads of bullies long gone, but only sighs long and hard at the smile of resignation from her sister's countenance.

"When you came…when these classmates, who have known me for years—who they see me as and what I represented—you…I think they were disbelieving of the fact that we both came from the same family just because we were so different. The jeers had, by then, not really done anything more than irritate me. I, of all people, know the two of us are different, but the fact to be relayed by near strangers who think they know us just because of what we show outwardly? It was laughable, and annoying, and suffocating. I'm quite aware of how different you and I are. All of the differences that everyone sees is what I fell in love with. Some idiot of a classmate doesn't have to say so in my face—it was what I was struggling to keep at bay all of high school."

Anna's breathing stops. Just…stops, because she wasn't expecting that revelation of all things. The older girl's smile is demure as she retracts her hand and crosses it with the other one under her head.

"I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel inferior. I've never thought that way. I've never thought of my academic prowess and achievements to be envy-inducing, although I can certainly understand why. If it was up to me, I wouldn't have wanted such a small thing to bind you into a shell that you're not. You—you are every positive thing that people say you are, and that is more important than getting a good grade or being summa cum laude or being what society deems the perfect daughter for our parents.

"I love everything that sets you differently from me. They're what makes you perfect. They're what makes you who you are, and if I'm truly apologetic for one thing within these last five years, it would be that I've managed to somehow extinguish that flame when all I wanted was to see to its growth."

Words have left her. It's not as if she was ever much for eloquence when around her sister or anyone for that matter, but to hear everything she's always dreamed of hearing, and all coming from the one person with the opinion that mattered…

Her chest is filled to capacity, throat closing around an indescribably large lump and all she can do is squelch the remaining distance between them and bury herself into the other girl's body.

Her fears, a manifestation of years upon years of an inferiority complex, in which she knows she can't blame the older girl in because really, it's not something Elsa could've done anything about, has been brought to light, and not picked over like a vulture picks through rotten flesh, but with delicacy only her sister can achieve.

She's never been told by anybody, least of all the most important person in her life, that she can be anything she wants to be—that this is preferable to the person she's been attempting to _become._

It's the type of freedom and assurance that disproves all of the spewed nonsense of robots and ice queens that lesser peers, classmates, and people have claimed her sister to be.

Because seriously, what do they know about Elsa?

Certainly not this. They don't know about the heart of gold inside a just as warm person. They don't know about a girl who can give the warmest, strongest hugs, listen with no judgment with a ready and willing ear, and certainly not the young mature woman who can readily tell her, "I love you just the way you are. Please don't change" and mean every single word.

She wonders briefly just how trying these next several weeks will be without this pillar of support to lean into, and now more than ever—more than even ten minutes back—she's dreading the upcoming loneliness reverberating in her system in the form of dull spikes starting from the bottom of her stomach and inching slowly to her beating heart. She wants to ask how she's supposed to live without the other girl's constant comfort and encouragement, regardless of how cheesy the words sound or how impossible not living without her would be in reality.

Living is easy. Feeling alive is a different matter altogether. She, of all people, know the stagnant difference between the two—having played quite dangerously with it for a small portion of her life. But this time, there is a proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, and it's certainly not going to be five years of confusion, anger, and loss. Elsa will make sure of that, and Anna can say this with relative ease and confidence.

What's six weeks anyway? Forty-two days. A thousand and eight hours. Maybe more…maybe less. She's really hoping for much less. At the culmination of it, she can only hope she's the person her sister deserves, because while she's getting there, she knows she's not quite there yet, and Elsa…Elsa deserves only the best.

O—O

Her long yawn stretches between them, inciting a helpless chuckle from the older girl behind her. It only makes her delve her back deeper into her sister's body, long arms tightly holding her shoulders in place and deft fingers caressing the smatter of freckles riding along her upper arms. They've been up for hours on end, the bedside clock reading just after two thirty in the morning, but she refuses to let sleep overcome her. She wants to capture every last waking minute, every passing second that she'll inevitably miss and crave, and no basic life need like exhaustion and sleep will take it from her.

Elsa's flight is booked: 6:45 AM, the flight the same amount of time it had taken the older girl to get to New York, but because of the time difference, she'll arrive at roughly nine thirty—early enough for her to attend her second class. Anna will make due of her promise and attend class as well, although whether or not she can stay up for the majority of them is best left to be seen.

"You really should get some rest."

"Says the girl who has a flight tomorrow and won't be comfortable enough to get any rest herself during her flight back…"

"Well, it doesn't make sense for the two of us to suffer."

"It totally makes sense…I'm happy if you are, and I'm miserable if you are." The in between sigh and chuckle is warm against her ears, and she returns a playful grin just as amicably.

It's as hot as it's been the past couple of nights, but they've been in this position for hours as well, sticky, sweaty dermis folding and plied together. She wonders if traditional siblings have ever sat like this together. The intimacy in everything they do is not lost on the smaller girl, and a part of her knows it stems from a combination of desire (mainly from the older girl) and the need to reconnect (mainly from her). But, as with everything, it's not uncomfortable—quite the opposite—and it's funny enough that her sister was the one to confess, yet she's always the one seeking warmth, solace, and comfort in the oddest, most unconventional ways. She's starting to think maybe, just maybe, she had always felt something for the taller girl too and had just been too naive to figure it out herself.

It's a good thing she has several weeks to figure it out…is the sarcastic thought that drifts through her mind.

"I promise to wake you up this time," Elsa jokes, and she turns only slightly so that the older girl can see the harassed look upon her countenance.

"You better," she grumbles. "I won't forgive you if you don't."

"And that's certainly something I wouldn't want."

She hates how she's going to miss all of this: the easy jests, the warm company, the sleepless nights that they can trudge on through just from simple conversations. She sighs softly, and regardless of how much she doesn't want the older girl to hear it, of course she does—they're too close for any form of veiled secrecy at this too late evening heading into early morning. The arms around her bent form tighten, and a small part of her is elated and pleased at how minimal the clothing is between them: a camisole and short shorts for each. The decision to wear what the older girl's wearing presently tomorrow night to somehow stave off the loneliness is pretty much already set in stone. She's going to miss this…every moment of it, right down to the crisp, wonderful, familiar smell that she can only associate with the other girl.

Elsa brushes her bangs back before placing a soft kiss daintily in the middle of her forehead. "Go to sleep. We both need to."

"I don't wanna close my eyeeees…I don't wanna faaaaall asleep 'cuz I'll miss you babe, and I don't wanna miss a thing!"

She's a little off tune, and a bit loud for the still night air, but it gets the desired laughter from Elsa's end, and before she knows it, the older girl has pulled both of them onto their backs, legs and arms sprawled every which way that makes the entire thing right and comfortable.

Light blue eyes sparkle at her in mirth before the taller girl sings softly, "All my bags are packed…I'm ready to go…"

"Aww…it's too fitting!"

"I'm leaaaving…on a jetplane. I'll come back in about six weeks or so…"

Laughter bursts at her chest from the ad lib, thoughts of last night again permeating through her mind. "You know what song I associate you with the most since your return?"

Platinum blonde brows raise in unasked query.

"Drops of Jupiter."

"Seems too regal."

"Too regal? Really, Elsa? Too regal? Pfft…You don't check out Mozart while you do Tae-Bo?"

Elsa laughs at the absurdity of the question and shakes her head. "I listen to Mozart, but I don't do Tae-Bo."

"Regardless…maybe it should be the other parts of the song I should highlight…like…_Now that she's back in the atmosphere I'm afraid that she might think of me as plain ole Jane told a story about a man who was too afraid to fly so he never did land._"

"You're hardly a plain ole Jane."

Her face lights up in elation just from hearing it from the older girl, but it's not enough to stray her from the topic. "And you? What's your go-to, 'Wow, this kind of reminds me of Anna' song?"

"Truthfully?"

"Why do you always ask that? As if I want you to lie to me…"

"Sometimes a lie is easier than the truth."

"As convenient as it is, I'd never want you to lie to me just for the sake of making things easier. Remember the last time that happened? It didn't work out very well for all party members involved."

"Note taken."

Anna rolls her eyes petulantly. "So? Which song?"

"Let Her Go, Passenger," is the easy answer, the older girl's eyes locked on hers in veiled scrutiny, possibly searching for a bad reaction, but the redhead knows enough that regardless of what song her sister would point out—it could be the cheesiest of ballads—it won't matter to her. Just the thought of a song reminding the older girl of her unconditionally seems good enough…God knows she does it all the time in regards to the blonde…"First time I heard it I kind of stopped everything I was doing and wondered if someone was looking into my life and made a song just for me."

The smaller girl smiles softly at the small admission. "Which part hits you most?"

"Hmm…_Well you see her when you fall asleep, but never to touch and never to keep 'cuz you loved her too much and you dive too deep. _But the rest of the song is just as fitting…"

"I don't think you can dive too deep when it comes to loving someone."

"It is if it's not consensual."

"That's akin to stalker tendencies bordering on rape. That's completely different."

"So where does incest fall into?"

It's the first time the taboo word is uttered between them, stuttering any reply and for words to dissipate in her throat.

When an answer on her end is not forthcoming, Elsa merely gives a casual shrug that looks anything, but. "That's why I feel that diving too deep isn't just a possibility, but a reality."

Anna gets her bearing back with an outward shake of the head, disagreement filling her chest quickly. "So you're telling me that people should put _rape_ and _incest_ together in the same boat?"

"They're both nonconsensual."

"Says who incest isn't consensual?!"

"Studies show that most incestual relationships are heralded by control over the dominant partner. The submissive is only following based on possible emotional abuse."

"I will make you eat your words."

"What is that even supposed to mean?"

"You're basically saying that if we ever get in a relationship, it'll be mainly your fault because you're the dominant partner, everything is up to you, and I'm just…meat."

"Hardly! I…would want all responsibilities to be divided and all acts, completely and most definitely, consensual." Elsa pauses for a second, eyebrows stitched in a befuddlement. "I'm—I'm kind of confused as to where this conversation's even going! We're_ not_ in a relationship, so the point is all but moot."

"I just want to make sure that if or when we do decide on the matter—yes, Elsa there's still a decision being put in place and I haven't, nor will I dismiss your confession without _really_ thinking about it—I'd like us both to be on the same page. None of this dominant partner BS that you probably read up in the middle of a curious midnight Google search and certainly not with one of us in the fence. You've had time to think about how you feel and I'm…I'm going to do so as well…and there's nothing you or anyone can do that can stop me."

She looks at the bewildered look on her sister's countenance, light blue eyes wide and above all confused.

"You don't have to think about." The older girl's voice is quiet and steady, as if she doesn't want anyone to hear what they're saying even though it's just the two of them in the too large house. "There's…there's nothing to think about Anna. This…this is an imperfection solely based on me. I…I didn't confess my feelings to you in hopes that you'd return them. I'm…I'm…I'm set on being your sister. As you should be set in being mine, regardless of the less than innocent actions I may show every now and then. It's…I swear to you, it's not done purposefully with your returned affection in mind. If it was up to me, I'd want you to be in a normal, loving relationship devoid of any sort of public scrutiny."

"I can't have that with you?"

The breaths coming out of her older sister are shallow and panicky, and she shakes her head in vehement refusal at the question. "No…you can't have that with me. You'll have the exact opposite…and I don't think you want that."

"This is gonna sound callous Elsa, but it's not just up to you."

The bob of the other girl's throat from a rough swallow takes Anna's attention for a moment before she places her head on a sturdy shoulder, a hair's breadth separating their solemn faces.

"I'm pretty aware of what's easy…and convenient, but neither of them makes either of us very happy," she says softly and evenly, unwavering eyes locked onto light blues shimmering in consternation. "I know you want me to lead a normal life, but you and I are far from traditional siblings and normal is overrated and boring and…well…not us. I've made a decision to think about 'us' wholeheartedly. What makes _us _happy, what's best for _us._ You and me first, before everyone. You can expect my answer when you return. Dread it or look forward to it…It will come regardless…and if it does, expect it to not be just a drive by."

It takes several moments for her sister to get the gibe, but when she does, the exasperated chuckle that comes from her is worth the weird conversation they had just endured.

"What is it with you and Train?"

"Hey, what are we if not Soul Sisters?"

"Real sisters?"

"So your apt to reminding me."

A brief pause to wash away the jest then, "Anna…"

"Yes, Elsa, I'm sure and no, there's nothing you can do or say to stop me. It's almost three, we're gonna be zombies in the morning and we'll have plenty of time to think about it with the impending, dreadful distance."

The younger girl turns over, doesn't wait for an answer, grabs the string of the side lamp and pulls, blanketing them in pure darkness. She turns back, searches for her sister's warm body, finds it, and resumes their original position, her fingers coming around to grip on the taller girl's camisole as their restless legs find cool spots at the bottom of the bed.

Her mind goes back to what they had been speaking of prior to the deviation and a sly smile lands on her face from mere thought, decidedly sharing it with the quiet girl to get her mind out of the gutter it's most likely stuck in. "You know what would've been a fitting song to sing to mom and dad if this all goes through?"

Silence greets her before the blonde mumbles, "Something tells me I don't want to know, but go ahead and shoot."

"_Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life, say yes, say yes 'cuz I need to know." _Elsa's laughter bounces through the palpable darkness, causing an outward grin to settle on the redhead's face before she continues, "_You say I'll never get your blessing 'til the day I die, tough luck my girl, but the answer is 'No'._ _Why you gotta be so…understanding?_ 'Cuz I can see them being understanding, but definitely not permitting…_Don't you know I'm human tooooo. Why you gotta be so understanding. I'm gonna marry her anyway."_

_"__Marry that girl," _Elsa joins in between mirth.

"_Marry her anyway."_

_"__Marry that girl."_

_"__No matter what the laws say." _

They both choke in repressed laughter, wanting to finish it for the sake of just finishing. _"Marry that girl."_

_"__And we'll _still_ be a family…"_

"You DORK."

Anna laughs gleefully, tightening her hold upon the older girl's waist and diving deeper into her favorite nuzzling spot. "You're gonna miss me when you're gone."

The taller girl nods, the rumbling mirth from her chest finally subsiding. "I'm gonna miss you by your walk, I'm gonna miss you by your talk. I'm definitely gonna miss you when I'm gone."

The kiss is simultaneous, Anna's on the taller girl's exposed shoulder and Elsa's on her right temple. She smiles lazily into the warm expanse of skin, familiar fingers dancing with the strands of her hair.

"Love you Elsa. Good night."

"Love you too," is the quick husky reply. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning, bright and early."

She closes her eyes, and although it should've been impossible to sleep so quickly, that's exactly what happens.

**AN: Late update this week and I'm sad to say this trend will most likely continue, but I'll try to post at least once a week. This chapter is kinda long…and no, you shouldn't be surprised that more nothingness happens regardless of its length. Disclaimers…for all the songs I use at the end there. Do I need to do disclaimers for those? Oh well, can't hurt. Thanks as always for the favorites, follows, and reviews. **

**david davidson: Don't be too excited. I wouldn't want you to be disappointed. Bad endings are a personal pet peeve. If the story ever goes rock bottom always know that there is a relative light at the end of the tunnel. **

**SakuraAyanami: It's always at the end of writing a chapter in which I wonder if I've done enough. Like, as an example, Anna's perspective. I probably wanted to do more—show more. And it's when I'm answering reviews in which the doubt settles. Yeah, I probably didn't regardless of the length…There's always next chapter I suppose. **

**Hei-Feng: The six weeks will be fun to write. I have some ideas I'm itching to take out of my brain and into paper. Let's hope it translates well.**

**Tripower: My trip was lovely :D albeit short. Fluffy scenes are a weird thing to write. Sometimes, it gets too sweet that I kinda cringe as I write it (a lot like smut honestly but probably not as bad). **

**Guest: I am not naturally amazing, you stop it with that crazy opinion. Build up and characterization is all I have if there's no driving plot so here's more! Take it! And have a great morning :)**

**iwantaparrot1: Haha, slow burn romances. I think…I think I write too many stories with the premise of slow burn romances. It gets to a point where I myself begin wondering why my characters aren't together yet…and sometimes that still isn't enough to have them together. But hey, if you love reading them as much as I (apparently) love writing them, we're both happy, and that's really all that counts, right?**

**FrozenFanatic: Haha, amazeballs…/sigh I find myself saying that sometimes. I'm glad my portrayals are at least right, and as always, thanks for the kind review.**

**Icy-Windbreeze: Nah, there is zero possibility that Elsa will get over Anna. If it didn't happen during her five year absence, the likeliness of it ever dissipating is close to nil. Be a greedy reader, you're entitled to it!**

**JB: Ahh, look what you've done. You've made the author blush. Congratulations. It's not to say it hasn't happened before, but it's not something I like to write "out loud". Thank you for the lovely review. Honestly, it's reviews like yours that make writing this easier and funner. It feels as if there's a reason for the extra effort, if I'm making any sense. I'm glad you're enjoying the story even though it's absolutely unoriginal and zero-plot driven. I can only hope I haven't risen the bar so high that it goes into a downward spiral from here on out. **

**barbara: The plot bunnies overtaking my mind on how utter failures they'll be at eventually keeping their relationship behind close doors is what keeps me from churning out these chapters that will eventually have them get there. I look forward to how it pans out probably just as much as you are. **

**McHaudegen: In all honestly, I hope this is the last chapter in which kind of nothing happens, even though I know that's probably far from the truth. Because there's no actual end game plot in mind it feels as if the whole story is going around in circles (sounds kinda bad but that's just me pointing it out (I'm my worst critic)) but I like going into their heads and solving little problems for them that feels like it might be an interest of conflict later. I can only hope my readers keep their patience with my snail-pace story. **

**IronShounen: Haha would you not have followed it religiously if I promised a bad end? And if you answer with a resounding, "NO" I can truly respect that because that's what I would do too. A month or a half to update? :D Oh man…the amount of stuff I can pelt out in a month and a half sounds kind of amazing…but I'll try (my darndest) to keep it up to weekly updates…even though as I've found this week that it will be difficult to do so. **


	9. Chapter Nine: Time

Chapter Nine: Time

Nothing is assimilating.

Heavy green-blue eyes drag to a ticking clock at the corner of the room that reads fifteen minutes after nine. Atop it, typed on faded printer paper in comic sans, of all fonts, is a smartass quote she had probably seen first on the internet: Time is passing. Are you?

She sighs outwardly, her neighbor giving her a brief look she pointedly ignores and lays her head back down on her sprawled arm, eyes first. The pressure of her forearm against her sockets keep the impending throb in her temples at bay, for now, but the potent combination of weariness and depression permeating over her body is starting to set deep in her bones. It's a small wonder she's still cognizant of her surroundings. Of course she knew it would be like this, considering the late (or early depending on how you look at it) hour she and Elsa had fallen asleep, but she knows it's not just exhaustion from a less than three hour nap that's causing such a tiring and confusing combination of unrest and fatigue.

Her thought flies back to an empty home devoid of warmth and her source of happiness within the last several days and it feels as if the pit of her stomach bottoms out even more, if that's at all possible.

Lead-like arms slide off of the cool desk, forehead meeting wood momentarily. She's seated so that she's bent as low as possible at the back of her chair, forehead hanging at the edge of the desk where her eyes have been darting restlessly towards the ugly brown carpeted floor. Seeing past it, her right hand hovers over her face, thumb grazing her bottom lip as her other hand reaches inside her jean pocket, searching and finding her phone after some patting and groping.

She pulls out the device and presses the middle home button, the new wallpaper summoning a ghost of a smile on her otherwise weary face. She had requested it of the older girl before leaving the cafeteria—a throwback of sorts to the original wallpaper from Elsa's first phone. Just like the first one, she can really see happiness and content in her own face, and her sister's expression a near mimic of her own. Their easy smiles are frozen in time—real, unmanufactured. Genuine. Every time she sees it, she can hear her heart beat just a little faster in her ears. Right now is no different, and the curve of her lips becomes just as automatic, dying all too soon because what she's looking for isn't there.

A blank screen. No notifications. Nothing.

And she knew that would be the case, but it doesn't stop her from checking. She knows that there's nothing Elsa can do, considering the older girl's _still_ up in the air where calling is almost impossible and texting is definitely out of the question, and yet, this would mark her tenth? Fifteenth time, checking? She lost count hours ago.

Pressing her thumb over the fingerprint input, she waits for the home screen to slide out and taps the messages button, eyes reading greedily at a text she had also read innumerable times since receiving it.

_I hope you have a good day in school. Try to pay attention, even though you'll most likely be too tired to. I'll call as soon as I land. If you don't answer, I'll text. I'll see you tonight. Seven my time. Ten yours. Love you. _

The ghost of a smile is back on her face, redness dusting her freckled cheeks.

Tonight. A little less than thirteen hours…

She really needs to stop counting because regardless of the length of time, it'll still feel too long for her liking.

Her fingers pass over the message, upper teeth clamping on her lower lip, and she knows she looks and is acting like a complete lovestruck teenager, but she can't help it. Maybe she is…

Another loud sigh is released inadvertently, her eyes darting to the floor as her hands mechanically turn off the phone and push it back in the recesses of her pocket.

She shouldn't be here. She knows that, but she had promised the older girl that she would—a fishing expedition for a bit of normalcy to return in her otherwise abnormal life. Last week this wouldn't have just been easy, it would be routine; a day like every other one in which her too busy mind wouldn't even have the time to think about an older sister who hasn't said a word to her as day five hundred so and so elapses. It's funny how the passing of not even a week—_six days_…could alter every perspective—her entire life upended with not a moment's notice.

It's not as if she wants to look for visual clues if her world would suddenly be as different as night and day. After all, what's life if not for a little spontaneity? But she sometimes wishes the surprises were just a bit more in the pleasant side. God knows the majority of them had been awful ones no one in their right mind would've wanted.

Her attention catches the shuffling of papers heading her way and, as mindlessly as the whole morning had been, she grabs one and passes the rest over.

Her eyes flutter across the salmon colored paper.

Final project…right…

This was very important to her last week. She remembers because it was all that she could think about. She had been looking forward to its introduction solely because of the inevitable busyness it would bring. Being busy was exciting—kept her thoughts from wandering.

Why is it close to impossible to bring forth that same feeling today…?

The heels of both palms rub roughly against her eyes, a slow bass line throbbing in her right temple and her mind screaming in frustrated echoes. She's surprised only an audible grunt is released from the back of her throat but she knows it's enough to get her neighbor's attention back to her.

With her jaw setting and teeth clamping in tandem, she turns her head sideways, a shallow surprise emanating from her mind that her classmate is looking back at her not with annoyance on an unfamiliar visage, but resigned apology—as if it's her that's sighing every few seconds and looking as if she doesn't want to be here, instead of the redhead.

"Sorry…" And it feels genuine because a part of her is as she whispers it.

The girl shakes her head while giving a soft, understanding smile. "It's alright," she whispers back. "If I were in your shoes, I don't think I could've come back at all…"

Anna's not sure how to respond to that, so she just nods, letting the silence hang uncomfortably before looking away and back at the front of the classroom.

The unfamiliar classmate's words resound in her head, her brain picking at it and giving it more thought than she would originally give merit to. Because truthfully, if she wasn't here…where would she go? With Elsa all the way back in the other side of the country, what could she do in the meantime other than wait for said girl to come back?

She can stay home, but that won't do anything but remind her of the many empty rooms; echoes of her voice rebounding from wall to wall. What had been home feels like a prison, especially after this morning, when she and Kai had returned from the airport and the entire house is devoid of noise and activity—still too early for any of the maids to begin their morning shift.

The palpable sense of loss hit her like a mack truck then.

Elsa's gone. She won't be back for six weeks.

_I'm alone._

Truly alone. No mom. No dad. No older sister.

Her body freezes over as one foot toed the familiar first stone step, eyes grazing over the dark estate. Echoes of the past greet and salute her, mind racing over every memory, the very door in front of her, the very step she was standing on, this entire house…and there's nothing to do, but bend over, arms hugging over both knees, face tucked in to form a tightly formed ball, and cry loudly, angrily, messily at life, the world, everyone, no one in particular.

Why does she have to grow up? Why so soon? Why can't the world just _stop_, let her breathe, let her gather her bearings?

In the end, why was the feeling of loneliness so inevitable?

The worst part was, she knew it would be like this. Elsa did too, but Anna hadn't shown then just how bad it would be—just how heart wrenching to the point where every part of her body hurt and the only known medicine? Flying…farther and farther away.

Tears, snot, drool, all from her face, leaked into her forearm, and she couldn't find it in herself to care if the whole world was watching her at that moment.

She just wanted Elsa back.

The warm palm on her shoulder was a surprise—she had forgotten her whole surroundings due to the excruciating pain of breathlessness. She swiped her entire face with her forearm first before chancing a glance at Kai's bent form beside her, ironed butler suit no doubt dirty from sitting on the dirty stoop. His dark cocoa eyes stare back at her, not with the pity or remorse she had gotten used to receiving after her parents' subsequent accident, but understanding and softness and just the smallest bit of apology.

She feels she should be ashamed, but other than her dad, this man had been the only other father-figure in her life. He had been present to witness her ups and downs, achievements and failures, and not once had he ever looked at her in a different light—a lot like her parents in more ways than one. As if he understood everything wordlessly, and knew above all that she was trying her best at what had been given to her, and sometimes the best isn't good enough.

She wants to smile, but can't summon the correct expression, possibly because she can't feel it. He seems to have a thorough grasp of her needs though for he merely smiles, takes off his coattail and scoots a bit further away, putting the jacket on the dirty stoop before motioning at her to sit on it.

"No…" Anna manages to rasp, head shaking in refute.

He gives her a mock dirty look. "It's already dirty Miss Anna," he states resolutely, nose turning up in playful snobbery. "Might as well make use of it."

His easy words bring out a small chuckle from her heavy chest, and she can only shake her head resignedly as she turns her body around and deposits herself atop the jacket, shoulder to shoulder with the old man as her eyes graze over the beatific grounds of the estate, the early morning sun casting soft rays of light to filter through towering cedars, oaks, pine and spruce. She's dimly aware of how blurry the otherwise gorgeous sight is, but Kai seems doubly aware for he extends a white handkerchief to her direction, one she takes after a moment's hesitation.

She smiles at the familiar smell of the laundry detergent her family uses emitting from the cloth and wipes her face diligently with it, blowing into it for good measure and causing a hearty chuckle from the man at her side.

"Thank you Kai," she manages to say, voice croaky from the persistent lump there. She cringes at how she must sound like. "And sorry too."

A soft tsking echoes from him as he turns to her, dark eyes questioning. "What's been done to merit an apology Miss Anna?"

Her arms make a weak flourish at her entire self in an obvious self-deprecating manner.

"Hardly something to be apologetic for."

She sighs tiredly, forehead coming back down on the back of her palms wrapped around both knees. She's vaguely aware that she's gripping the handkerchief in a chokehold, but it doesn't register enough in her too muddled head.

"Everything that's happened, up until this point, has been without a doubt, difficult," Kai says softly, and when she has a chance to look up at him, his eyes are as faraway as hers, seeing beyond the trees, the shrubs, the driveway of the estate, seeing something only he can. His mellow voice is a timbre lower, grave and heavy—a sound she had never, in her life, heard from him. "Difficult hardly feels like a word that does what you've gone through justice. Moreover it's unfair. It's cruel. It's…life. Regardless of your background, education, social status…" He stops momentarily and gathers himself, eyes deferring to the cement floor beneath them. "A lot of people believe that happiness stems from these three things. That if you have high socio-economic status, a proper education, and an esteemed background, happiness will come by itself. And they're right, in some level. But it's what I like to coin surface euphoria.

"Look at us, for example. Poster children for surface euphoria if I've ever seen any more likely candidates." He gives her a crinkled smile that doesn't show in his eyes, his face marred by desolation and despair. "We have more money than we care for, more possessions than we can use. We're both properly educated people, and we dismiss our role in high society but given the chance, we could probably make something of ourselves there can't we?" His smile is wistful, sad, and broken. "And yet even with all of this…if given the chance, we would exchange all of it easily and without thought, just to have the opportunity to turn the clock back to this same day, last week."

Her heart burns as each of his sentences become fully assimilated in her still swimming mind, pinpricks at the corners of both eyes returning with a vengeance. Hot tears flow freely, splashing against the back of her palm as her hand bunches the cloth tightly in her white knuckled fist. The indescribable loss is felt in all reaches of her system, and it would seem impossible but it feels even worse today than it did when she had received that phone call in the middle of an otherwise boring day last week from this same, soft spoken man.

Her body wracks in uncontrollable sobs, a never-ending cascade of tears leaking from firmly shut eyes. And all she wants is to disappear and never return—to stop feeling, even though she knows that, that option is the worst of all.

The same warm hand palms her shoulder blade, the consoling rub and pat combination enough to gather her thoughts from swimming into unwanted territories.

"Sorry Miss Anna," Kai mumbles, and she wants to refuse his apology but a vehement shake of the head is all she can gather; the enormous lump in her throat is making a simple action like talking all, but impossible. "I've never been very good at consolation, and I know you're probably so tired of seeing and hearing it by now."

She shakes her head, her watery gaze locked at her thighs. She wants to say it's different when coming from someone like him—someone who is pretty much family, but again the words die in her throat.

"What I can guarantee though is time will pass. It hurts today. It'll hurt tomorrow. It'll hurt for a while. But time has a way of chipping through the bleakness. In due time, Miss Elsa will be back and the burden won't be so great. Until then, always know that because of who you are, Miss Anna, because of the bright and positive person you've been and always will be, even though it feels as if you're alone, you most certainly are not. Miss Elsa will do her best to make sure the distance feels somewhat shorter, I'm sure, and you have a great deal of friends here that won't allow you to regress into yourself so much that you lose sight of the important things.

"If all else fails, I hope you know that I'm here too, and although I'm just a caretaker—

"You're more than a caretaker…"

He chuckles, and pats her again on the shoulder good-naturedly. She turns her head sideways, eyes meeting his dark chocolate ones and the understanding and affection she sees there feels like a beacon of light in an otherwise morose start of the longest six weeks of her life.

"Kai…can I ask for a favor?"

He sits up, straight as an arrow, attention undivided on her still bent form.

"I…can't stay in this huge house alone…" her words crack in the middle of the sentence, and she has to swallow the hurt in her throat and drag her eyes away in order to continue. "Can you stay? At least…maybe a week…or—

"I'll stay until Miss Elsa comes back," the butler says with a simple smile. "You and I both know there's nothing that waits for me back home when I get there Miss Anna. And staying at the estate will allow me to get things done at a more reasonable rate."

His easy agreement, filled to the brim with unspoken understanding, is all she needs. Turning her body towards his, she buries her face into his arm just as the sniffles begin again, the heaviness in her chest, stomach and throat coming back in full force. He sits there patiently, neither making a sound or a move as her sobs fill the empty morning air.

Anna knows she doesn't have to say it, but she does so later anyway, sheepish eyes unable to meet his twinkling ones. She finds that there are no words available that can say how grateful she is of this selfless man. A mere thank you feels too small. _Any word_ feels too small for everything he's ever done for her. And she knows he doesn't do it because of a mere job description or because there's a payday at the end. Kai…Kai has always felt like a second father, and although she's never said it out loud, she can tell by his easy smile that he understands, and he knows, and for her, that is enough.

The bell rings, taking her out of her reverie. The shuffling of students is loud and she can't hear the professor over it, but it's not as if she was paying attention in the first place. Gathering her things, she realizes briefly that she _can_ go home. It won't be _that_ empty and it's not as if she's any better here…but she knows she can't run away forever. Because going home and staying in her room for everything to blow over is akin to running away, and she can't do that. She has to trudge on through. She promised Elsa that she'd take care of herself. More importantly, she promised herself that she'd become better.

The buzzing in her pocket stops all activity, and she dives a hand into it and to retract it out of her tight jeans.

"Hello?"

She drops everything, literally. All the papers and notes she had been on the verge of putting away fall unceremoniously on her desk, some floating towards the floor, but she could care less.

_"__Hey, Anna."_

Heat blossoms in her chest and she wants to yell for everyone to shut up so she can hear her sister better, but opts to shove the phone closer to her ear. She looks at the time, just ten minutes before ten and is a bit confused for a moment because she can do the math (or at least hoping she's doing the right math) and knows the older girl should still be flying over Central US.

"Are you using the phone in the plane?" she asks, shoving her items in her backpack without thought as she uses her shoulder and ear to keep the phone in place.

_"__Yes. I wanted to make sure you were okay and that if you're too tired, you shouldn't go to school today."_

Anna grins. She hasn't grinned all day… "I knew you'd say that, but here I am. If you wanna stop me from heading into my next class, you'll have to pull me out of it yourself."

_"__Yes, let me speak with the pilot. I'm sure he's more than willing to make an exception for you." _

The redhead grins as she bounds down the lecture steps, flinging her bag over her right shoulder and her left hand grasping the phone. "Something tells me he won't, but I'm sure you would."

_"__You and I both know I would and will and can and do." _

The heaviness in her heart is dissipating by the second. She wonders briefly if Elsa's aware of how much control she has over her emotions. If she didn't…she'd have an inkling now.

Dive in…take the plunge. "Should we talk about it?"

It's quiet on the other side for a moment, barring the racket of engine noise before,_ "No, not over the phone. Not even over the net. Anna…"_

"I know it was stupid and I wasn't thinking and I kinda just wanted you to stay."

_"__I understand. Trust me…I do."_

She sighs outwardly, switching the phone from her left ear to her right and juggling her backpack so it stops sliding off the slope of her shoulder. "When you come back then?"

_"__I sincerely hope so." _

"Look forward to it."

_"__Should I?"_

"Yeah, you really should."

Silence, and then, _"Then I will." _

Anna smiles softly in spite of herself, dodging other hurrying classmates with only a quarter of her attention. "How long before you touch down?"

_"__Two more hours, according to the itinerary. I'll call you when I do. If you're busy, don't answer. I'm sure you'll be in the middle of class when I land."_

"Text me. I'll text back."

_"__No, you pay attention to your lectures." _The strict voice streaming through her ears is cute enough to merit another grin from the redhead._ "I'm hanging up. I look forward to tonight."_

"Ten," she replies resolutely. "Sharp, on the dot. But so you know I'll probably be on much, much, _much _earlier than that so if you get back from school and class and everything's taken care of…"

_"__Nothing would make me happier than to see and speak with you as soon as possible." _

The stutter in her step is probably most notable from the guy rear-ending her from her sudden complete stop. She gives him a sorry look as he scowls at her before he hurries on his way, the smaller girl turning into a deserted corner as soon as she's able so the traffic doesn't sweep her away and standing so that her face is right up against the cement wall.

_"__Anna?"_

"Yeah, sorry, I'm here." She breathes deeply, the automatic action a bit difficult because of the sudden weight in her lungs. Her eyes dart over the small bumps of concrete and leans her free hand over the cold surface. "I'll…I'm gonna let you go."

_"'__Kay. Take care."_

"Yes. You too…Ten?"

_"__Ten."_

She swallows the rough patch in her throat, forehead joining her palm as, it too, touches the cold wall, her eyes closing in tandem to the phone digging deeper in her ears.

"I miss you, Elsa."

_"__I miss you too." _

"I love you, Elsa." She isn't able to hide the desperation from coating her words in that admission.

A pause, a brief sound of a heavy intake of air, then, _"I love you too, Anna."_

The smaller girl cuts the line herself, pressing on the end button resolutely before pushing herself off of the wall. A heavy breath later and she's off to Art History, joining the throng of students momentarily. She takes her time getting there, her right hand still gripping on her phone, but amidst the general noise in and out of her head, she makes a decision.

The first step is the hardest to take, but she's dead set on taking it. It's progression, evolution—the pathway that brings her back to Elsa. And she has to try. Because it's for the older girl, she has to try and inevitably succeed. It's really the only incentive she needs for, dare she say it, a happily ever after. No other future can contend to the brightness than the one her sister is in, but she has to do her part in order to see to its fruition. She can't dawdle in the now. She can't let the depression and helplessness overtake her.

The heaviness in her step becomes just a tad lighter. Face forward, she heads to her next class. She'll try harder…starting now.

O—O

The peculiar sound of the Skype ringtone fills the otherwise silent room, making her dash from her overfilled work desk to her bed where the laptop lay open. She grins in suppressed excitement and nervousness, her entire body waiting for this one moment since their separation.

She turns the volume on as loud as possible on the device before plopping down in front of it cross legged, pushing the laptop and screen away to line up with her entire body before pressing the answer button. It's black for a moment before the grainy quality comes to life, and although it should be good enough, Anna knows the pixelated pictures draw such a weak comparison to an otherwise flawless face.

"Hi!" she breathes, mouth spread in an ear to ear grin.

Elsa doesn't greet her with the same enthusiasm, just as she had expected. Instead, the older girl draws a heavy sigh as if gathering her wits before narrowing her eyes at her.

"Anna…"

"What?!" she cries harassed, although the sound doesn't reach the same seriousness because of the perpetual grin in her face. "You can't say I didn't warn you!"

The older girl merely responds with a shake of the head and exasperated fingers clamping over shut eyes.

"And," Anna continues, quite undeterred, "You shouldn't make such quick assumptions. I might be…going out later…"

Icy light blue eyes open and narrow at her in obvious disbelief. "You have errands to run at ten in the evening?" she asks drily.

"Yeeeeesss…" the redhead answers with an unconvincing trail off.

"On a school night?"

"Lots of places to go in the city that never sleeps."

"I plan on us chatting well into midnight, your time. Should I keep it short so you can run your errands like you wish?"

Anna pouts, hoping it comes across the webcam endearingly. "No need for threats Elsa, gosh…"

The taller girl shares her exasperated smile and shakes her head in playful disbelief. "Go change in your jammies then come back so we may speak properly."

"It's not possible with just the way we are right now?"

"I can barely think straight with how _you _are right now…"

Anna sighs dramatically and lays back against her pillow. Silence reigns between them for a moment before an impish smile flits over her freckly countenance. She lifts her right hand so it hovers over her collar, the tight body suit, hugging every portion of her body, squeaking with every purposeful movement.

Even through the grainy picture, she can see Elsa's form stiffen, eyes becoming impossibly wider as her index finger and thumb clamp on the zipper of the biker suit and pull downwards, slowly. She's aware of how she must look like, considering there's a small box of her side of the webcam positioned on the lower right corner of the laptop, but she pointedly ignores it and just stares at the older girl's reaction, the noise of the zipper the only sound between them other than the suddenly loud breathing coming from the laptop's speakers.

She manages to pull the zipper all the way down to the valley of her cleavage, her eye catching red brassiere in full view before, "Anna!"

"What?!" she asks, obviously not that harassed from the still bright grin on her face.

"What are you doing?!" Elsa's face is bright red, and she's not sure if that's from the webcam, lighting, or her doing. She's more than willing to bet the very last one though.

"What you wanted me to do," she says impetuously. "Changing. I'm gonna get out of the suit so I can change in my pajamas…"

"Do it off-screen."

"You don't want to see me change?"

"N-no…yes…of course, I do…w-what?"

The laughter from hearing her sister stutter in utter confusion bubbles out of her throat and explodes in unadulterated mirth, her head swinging back against the pillow as she doubles over in laughter. The stress from having to wait for the end of the entire day feels worth it just for this moment alone.

"You are such a brat…"

The small aftershocks in her lungs tremble some more as she tries to breathe properly with little to no success. Swiping the accumulation of hysterical tears with her fingers, she grins at Elsa once the hilarity has somewhat subsided, the older girl glaring at her and unamused light blues rolling at her display of immaturity.

She sticks her tongue out, unable to stop the still rolling laughter from her belly. "And _you _are such a prude."

The older girl sighs loud and hard. "I'm a prude for not allowing…cyber sex on the first Skype session?"

Anna gives a mockingly indignant loud huff. "Elsa! Really? Cyber sex on the first night? You never put out on the first night…at least make them work for it!"

The older girl answers by merely shaking her head and rubbing her face into her open palm. And that is Anna's cue to stop. She gives one last unapologetic grin at the blonde whose head merely keeps shaking in disbelief before sliding off of the bed and in one fell swoop, unzips the full length body suit, unwraps herself out of its sticky confines, and puts on a yellow camisole and short shorts perched strategically at the bottom of her bed.

She's back in record time, pulls the computer on her lap so its name is used aptly and smiles at her sister whose position has changed with the camera showing more of a side profile, her attention gathered at what could only be a homework assignment before her.

"I'm back," she states, even though she's pretty sure the other girl is already aware of her return.

Elsa looks up and gives her a disarming smile, and she has to wonder how it's possible for the older girl to maintain a single, commitment-free life with such a gorgeous face.

That same face scrunches in outward scrutiny before she asks, "Is that…what I wore last night?"

Anna chuckles, pulls the front of the camisole under her nose, and breathes in deeply. "Still smells like you," she says unabashedly, causing scarlet to dust violently upon alabaster skin. The redhead remains as unapologetic as when they had first started.

The older girl gives an index finger salute, the universal sign for "one moment" before she gets up and leaves the screen momentarily. Anna's perplexed for a moment, but it doesn't stay long for Elsa comes back soon enough, a couple of familiar clothes in each hand. She gives an open toothed smile that the redhead can't help but return. In the blonde's right hand is the rainbow apron she had used when they had cooked dinner at her studio and in the other…

"Really, Elsa? You couldn't get your own Sci-Arc shirt?"

The soft laughter that streams through her eardrums is pleasing, turns her own playful scowl to easy resignation. Elsa gathers the items and clutches them into her body, fondness peaking out of light blue eyes.

"They may look the same, but they don't hold the same weight," is the simple answer.

And the fact that Anna understands what she means wholeheartedly makes the simple task of speaking difficult, but fortunately not impossible. "Keep that one if you promise to buy me ten more…all different colors…"

Even, white teeth sparkle at her. "Something tells me an architecture based school doesn't have the same gear selection as regular universities, but I'll definitely get you more shirts if that's all you want."

"I want the girl bringing me the shirts more than the shirts, but I'll get the latter when I get the former, so call it a win-win situation?"

The blonde's smile softens, and even though there's lag time and pixels that make it obvious there's so much distance between them, they both try to make up for it—faces so close to the laptop that it's probably retinal damaging, and just as close shared conversations.

As Elsa had promised, they spoke well into the night, talking about anything and everything starting from their very first school day back, to the flight, to any other tidbits they could come across, each second bringing them seemingly closer than the reality of twenty-five hundred miles. And Anna feels as if she should be grateful for this small favor—and she is, kind of…It's not as if she was able to do this before with the other girl despite it being all she actually wanted. But the fact that her sister's across a flat screen and not a tangible form she can hold on to, that her beautiful face is marred by running graphics that can't seem to catch up…

"It's not enough, is it?"

A sardonic smile passes through the redhead's visage. Even through a webcam Elsa's able to read her mind…apparently.

She shakes her head, unable to clear the disappointment and sighs loudly. "Sorry…"

"One sec…"

She's confused for a moment at the sudden dismissal before her laptop gives a little swoosh sound: an e-mail popping up.

She ignores it until the older girl, who seems busy typing away at her computer desk says randomly, "Check that e-mail."

Complying too easily, she presses on her mail icon and ignores the tens of thousands of unread mail up until the most recent: an attachment e-mail from the blonde. She clicks on it, waits for the computer to load, and then slaps her face with an exasperated palm. Elsa's lilting laughter resounds in the room.

_The Andersen Sisters' Forward Progression Agreement._

"When did you have a chance to type up a written contract?!"

"Plane ride," is the simple answer which forces her fingers to rub at her eyes all the more. "Please look it over, see what you'd like changed or disagree with, I'll make the necessary changes once we both have an overall agreement, then I'll send the final physical copy over the mail for you to sign."

"Please say you're joking."

"I wish I could, but unless you strike that word from your vocabulary, I feel it's better to be safe than sorry."

"This is just backlash from the biker suit earlier, which I warned you about, might I add."

"Anna, this was done in the _plane ride_ ten or more hours ago. You claim I can read your mind, but you and I both know I can't. How is this backlash from something I didn't know was being planned?"

"Unnecessary specifics…" Her eyes scan over the words on the screen in further scrutiny. "And when did you learn how to even _do _one of these?"

"One of my and dad's many escapades during his random visits. And when I say random visits, they truly were. It's only recently when I spoke with Greta last that they weren't as random as I had been thinking."

A mix of nostalgia, bitterness, and sadness clashes in her system, knowing the plethora of emotions can be seen by the older girl. "I still wish I could've joined…" she mutters quietly.

Elsa can only give a just as empty smile, light blue eyes deferring to the top of her desk. "I know…"

A thought that has been driving her crazy sputters out, not wanting either of them to spoil an otherwise great first night of this…long distance relationship, but curiosity winning out in the end regardless. "How different do you think it would've been…if you didn't tell dad…or if you did and he said no on the whole ignoring me deal and you were forced to come home every year and see me?"

The blonde looks up, first towards her, then to the ceiling in deep thought. "Honestly, now that I've seen the consequences of my actions, that option may have been most preferable," she says in a small voice.

Anna pokes at the volume button even after already knowing it's on full blast in a vain attempt to hear the other girl better. Elsa's not able to look at the screen, her face angled towards another portion of the room the redhead can't see, but the expression on her face is ample of speaking for itself.

"But knowing how I am," the blonde continues, the dip in her brows deepening with every word, "I would've obeyed dad's wishes, come home at least once a year—probably Christmas and New Year breaks, apologized to you for being too busy while dropping hints that I'll still be busy so you don't expect more from me, and keep my silence…indefinitely."

"You wouldn't have confessed."

"I wouldn't have confessed if we didn't open the safe."

The bitterness coating her throat makes the words easier. "Not very fair for me."

"I never claimed to be."

Anna sighs, long and hard. "And so, then what? You, mom, and dad would keep it to your grave and keep me in the dark forever?"

"Wouldn't that be the best scenario?"

"No!" The vehemence in her yell rebounds against the walls, her chest flaring in anger. She didn't think this "what if" questioning would hit her so hard, but just the thought of the bleakness and reality of that situation is something she has a hard time grasping and moreover accepting. Gesticulating hands splay wildly in front of her, the unfairness of a scenario that would never happen grating her much more than it should've. "There's nothing good about…any of it! I'll still be in the dark and you…you'll still be miserable…and by yourself…and I'll never know…I'll never know that I'm the cause of it even though a huge part of me suspects it. And this connection we have now—that we've only just began repairing…it won't be there. A part of me will still detest you. The worst part? A whole lot of me won't even get the chance at loving you. A place where you're perpetually alone and I'm the same loveless person I was a week ago. How is that the best scenario?"

The weak and helpless smile thrown her way brings the guttural sound of combined perplexity and indignation to erupt out of her throat. One thing's for sure…

"Well_ I'm_ glad you told me," she says with a resolute humph, arms crossing over her chest as she turns her nose upwards.

Elsa's face softens, her hand coming up to touch the computer and a wry smile flits upon her countenance at possibly feeling a cold flat screen instead of the smaller girl's warm cheek. "Are you?" she asks, the sound barely hearable through the speakers. The dead silence of the night makes it at least easier to decipher her small words.

"When you come back…I'll show you how glad I am."

She smirks as an added effect to the confidence in her tone and the pixels make the blush almost undetectable if not for how fierce the taller girl's reaction is, garnering a laugh from her end.

"We really won't talk about it?" she asks, just one more time because she wants to be sure.

Elsa shakes her head. "I want you to have an impartial decision."

"Even though I was the one to initiate it?"

"Act like it didn't happen."

"Pfft, as if I could! It's all I could think about all day…"

The blonde chuckles, head shaking in mirth. "Can't say you were alone in that boat."

"And you _still_ had the attention span required to create a written contract?"

"Oftentimes, it's more a blessing than a curse."

The conversation becomes easier after, and Anna's more than happy of the disappearing gloom—she didn't want anything to sour their first Skype session. But the heavy yawns begin soon after as well, her eyes darting to the corner clock that reads almost 1 AM. And every part of her doesn't want to end it, but she knows, just from her sister's expression, that it's inevitable.

"Time for bed?"

She pouts, taking the heavy and overheated laptop off of her stomach and placing it on the side of her bed. Even though it's hot, she pulls her covers up until it's over her shoulders, turning to her side so that she's laying and watching the screen at the same time.

"You need to buy a laptop," she says rather resolutely.

Elsa merely nods. "I'm contemplating on taking the desktop to my bedroom so I can watch you sleep…but now that I've heard myself say it out loud, it sounds rather stalkery so forget I said anything."

Anna laughs, but nods her head in agreement regardless. She smiles shyly, voice lowering as she says, "I'd like to wake up and see you…if that's possible. I won't wake you up or anything! Just…I kind of want you to be the last thing I see when I go to sleep and the first thing I see when I wake up."

The older girl looks taken aback by her admission, and only a long moment of stunned silence later, does she reply, "Walmart's open…I'm going to go buy a laptop."

The resolute words cause a new fit of giggles to erupt from the redhead. "Elsa, it's ten your time. No one in their right mind buys a laptop at ten in the evening at a Walmart no less…"

"I've never claimed to be of sound mind…ever."

"You don't have to claim it, you just are," Anna replies simply and smiles. "There's always tomorrow Elsa. You don't mind if I keep this on though, right?"

The older girl shakes her head, a warm smile atop her beautiful features. "As I said," she states with a suppressed grin, "I'd like to watch you sleep."

"How romantic!"

The speakers don't do justice to the lilting sound of her sister's laughter, but she'll take what she can get. Leaning into the webcam, the redhead puckers up her lips and give a loud smooch over the cold, flat surface.

"G'night Elsa."

"Sweet dreams, Anna."

She smiles, the last thing she sees before the perpetual closing of sleep heavy eyes, the undoubtedly affectionate expression upon her sister's countenance.

O—O

"Ahh, so glad I could catch you. You seem so elusive these days."

Anna's about to turn out of her classroom when the familiar voice and intruding grab of her arm swings her back. She nearly collides with another exiting student but manages to side step away from him and straight into the waiting, standing figure of her ex turned friend.

"Hey Jenna," she greets and she realizes she sounds hurried, but only because she really is. "Walk with me. I need to get going."

Before she can turn away again, the blonde grabs her arm again, impeding her progress just as easily as before.

"No, no, no, hold on…" Jenna says with a shaking head and added outward refute. "Do you have a date or something?"

And she's about to say yes, because really her sessions with Elsa might as well be, but catches herself in the middle of actually saying it. "No…why?"

"Then you're going out with me."

"I'll pass."

"No, you won't." The blonde's no nonsense attitude is first confusing, then bubbles displeasure. "You owe me."

Her eyebrows stitch into a skeptical frown. "Why…do I owe you?"

"Remember when you promised me that you'd contact your worried friends and assure them that you're okay?"

The redhead's lips purse automatically. Yeah…she didn't do that.

"You didn't do that."

"I'm quite aware."

"Which is why you owe me."

The sigh that comes out of her lungs is heavy and stressed, and just as how she couldn't control that, her fingers come up to automatically massage her temples. She needs to find a way to get out of this. She'd been looking forward to this moment all _day. _Elsa had promised her of an impending early release from class. The older girl is at home this very moment, waiting for her face to reappear in a Skype screen that hasn't been turned off (apart from bad connectivity issues) for the better part of a week and a half and all she wants is to be on the other side of it, everything else falling in the unimportant category.

Thoughts of rescheduling fills her mind, but she's not one to remake plans only to break them…and she has a feeling she won't want to go out for the next several weeks if she can help it.

"Anna…I've been talking to your friends." Hazel eyes stare at her almost accusingly. "They say you're holing yourself up at home and declining every invitation out regardless of how short that time may be. You're worrying everyone…including me."

"I'm fine…"

"Then show it. Prove it. You don't have plans tonight so…come out with me."

The problem is she does have plans tonight. Important plans. The end of the world couldn't stop her from them. It hardly matters that it's only important to her, considering tucking herself in bed and talking with her sister about any subject under the sun would not be important to anyone else, but she cares little for that. Just the same that this has been the continuing trend for the second week straight and it matters even less if they run out of things to talk about—she's willing to bet the silence will be comfortable and easy.

The familiar academic smell of the school fills her lungs as she breathes in deeply, eyes closing in concentration for what she's about to say.

Reconnecting with questioningly concentrated hazel eyes, she shakes her head once, and says evenly, "I do have plans…and I'll be busy."

She notes momentarily how the other girl's jaw sets at her words, lips pursing minimally in a show of disagreement. "What plans?"

"Finals."

"Funny, because everyone has that as an excuse, but isn't using it."

"Everyone hasn't missed six days of school."

"You missed four and a half days Anna," the taller girl says matter-of-factly. "And everyone knows the teachers aren't docking points for it—missed homework, participation, or otherwise. They all love you too much and if they didn't, your parents' donations and past contributions to the university has convinced them otherwise."

The counterattack dies in her throat.

As if sensing this, Jenna plunges on, "Everyone is coming out to hang tonight. _Everyone._ We're all in an understanding that this is probably the last weekend in which we'll have the time to gather and act our age before finals and graduation and…we want you to join us. We all miss you and your mere _presence_ would be appreciated."

She can sense the bit of sarcasm at the end there, but she knows the other girl means well and is genuine about the rest. It still doesn't solve her predicament though…

"What _is_ at home? I spoke to Kristoff and he says your sister's been gone for a week so…"

The redhead's gaze falls to the floor, the bottom of her shoe scuffing the rubber marks marring the dirty tiled ground. Looking up and jaw clenched, she sighs resignedly and states, "Nothing…There's nothing at home."

The blonde's face immediately lights up in a smile regardless of the unhappy one obviously upon her own. "So you'll come out?"

"What time?"

"I was told to disallow you from out of my sight…so…now. We'll meet at Tricia's apartment, hang out there for a bit, wait for everyone to gather, and then head out together to Baker's Field for some corn maze rave party…thing."

"Sounds like the start of a bad slasher movie…"

Jenna smiles, clear and bright regardless or maybe because of her outward display lacking enthusiasm. She groans under her breath, her hand snaking into her pocket to take out her phone.

"Give me a moment," she says with a sigh, turning around and pressing the call button before pressing it up against her ear and walking a marginal distance away from her curious friend.

_"__Hello?"_

The warm smile from hearing the familiar voice passes through her face automatically regardless of the heaviness in her chest. "Hey," she greets softly, tongue darting out to rewet dry lips. She sighs loudly, looks at a nearly deserted hallway and continues, "I…won't be home tonight."

A small silence before, _"Okay."_

No questions, no outward dissent, no complaints. It's not that Anna was expecting it. This is Elsa after all. But she would've liked to hear the older girl to be at least disappointed that their nightly routine has finally broken.

"Sorry," and she really does mean it.

_"__It's alright Anna," _the blonde says simply on the other side. _"I assume you'll be with friends?" _

"Yeah, they're making me go out with them…and when I say forcing it, I literally mean…forcing it."

Elsa's laughter rings in her ears, causing the frown on her face to dissipate and for a warm, congenial smile to take its place. _"Yes, no one wants to be friends with a hermit."_

"I'd rather be at home talking with you."

_"__There'll be plenty of opportunity for that and less with your friends considering how busy all of you will be within the next few weeks. Please have fun and make sure you take care of yourself. If anything else, send me the address of your whereabouts so if it becomes too late of an hour and Kai becomes worried of your absence, I can send it to him. Although, it shouldn't go that far, should it?"_

"No, definitely not. And I won't be drinking…or anything…Just…out…with friends."

_"__Anna…if you need a reminder, then I'll say it. You're not tied to me." _

The redhead's jaw clenches _hard_ at the outward statement, her sight barreling on no specific spot on the ground under her. "Elsa…if _you _need a reminder…I _am._"

_"__That decision has not been made yet."_

"Oh, I think you and I both know it has been. Maybe since the airport…maybe even _before_ that."

Elsa sighs outwardly over the line, the shuffling of the phone going from one ear to the other decipherable by the smaller girl who all, but has her own phone glued to her ear. _"Four weeks…Maybe I can change your mind by the end of it." _

"Urgh, why are you making this difficult?" she groans out loud, rolling eyes locking at the ceiling. "Forget it…I won't listen to you…I will be going out with friends until possibly one. Maybe two, at the most, but I don't plan on staying long, nor do I plan on drinking and definitely no hooking up with _anyone_. Will your Skype be on?"

_"__Yes, but I will most likely be working on my finals since you won't be online. If anything, text me in case I'm nowhere near my laptop so we can talk before you tuck in for the night. If you're too tired though, you don't have to do anything. Just get in bed and I'll Skype with you in the morning." _

She nods outwardly even though the older girl can't see it. "'Kay." She sighs again and bites her lip, tucking a stray strand of hair from her peripherals behind her ear. "Sorry again…"

_"__Have you read the contract?"_

"I refuse to."

Elsa chuckles easily, and she closes her eyes to savor the sound so that it may be the last thing she hears of the older girl before they hang up. _"Take care Anna. Be safe."_

"I will."

She breathes loudly, warring with indecision before she presses the end call button and finally turning around to her perplexed ex, hazel eyes full of unasked questions that she, for the life of her, won't answer.

"Let's go?"

It takes a moment for Jenna to get her bearings, but she eventually does, walking the ten to fifteen feet distance between them. She nods, still looking at her in askance before smiling a rather feral grin. "Yup, let's go."

O—O

She has a running tab in her mind of comparisons from how she was a month ago versus how she is in the present. She doesn't want to say that a lot has changed, but upon closer inspection, she can't refute outward evidence when it's presented to her in this lackluster manner. Case in point, the present. She's pretty sure that if today had been a month ago, she would be in the middle of this semi-harvested corn field with the mass of gyrating bodies, dancing to the top forty hits thumping through several speakers as if there's no tomorrow, and quite possibly (even though she's not supposed to be) drunk out of her mind. She can picture herself picking up some random girl that meets at least three of her five criteria, talking their ear off for the better part of a couple hours, decide then and there if she wants to be further acquainted (usually not because she finds an imperfection she can't get over within the first thirty minutes), go home, sleep it off, and because it's the weekend, probably start the whole thing all over again. It's the kind of recklessness that has made her feel somewhat alive in the past—living as if there's no tomorrow. Of course it's not something she makes a habit of. After all, she's done that before and it didn't bode well for her parents regardless of their reticence of her past behavior. But once a month, she'd let her inhibitions fly, her "I don't give a fuck" attitude in full unstoppable course, and she'd attempt at the feeling of being alive for at least a weekend.

Tonight…Tonight is boding to be the exact opposite of how she used to spend these nights. She's sitting cross legged in the back of a pickup truck—one of her friend's—butt numb from being in this same position for too long. In her right hand is a Coke can. She learned early on, in other venues, that anything you didn't open yourself is spiked, and having an alcoholic drink is not in her prerogative—she's assigned herself as designated driver for the night much to the joy of her friends.

There truly is a first time for everything…

It's not to say she's not enjoying herself regardless of how unusual it is for her to be in the sidelines rather than the middle of a party. To be honest, she finds it kind of intriguing, watching people interact with each other when they think the dim spotlights and minimal lighting is enough to hide basic human nature.

It's a wonder why Kristoff does it all the time…

She breathes in the dry cornfield smell before tipping back the rest of the flat Coke. The good news is there's a good chance they'll be heading out soon. The bad news, she'll be driving the majority of her friends to their homes/dorms/apartments and she herself probably won't be home until very, very late. It's a small price to pay, she supposes. If one night is all it takes for her classmates, acquaintances, and friends to see she's okay and not going to off herself like some of them has confessed with a joking smile that she replied with a fake laugh to, then the entire night isn't really wasted. Then she can go back to hassle free nights filled with nothing but the only girl that has been in her mind the entire night.

"I see you're still here."

The music, albeit still loud, isn't as far reaching as where she's sitting, and her attention turns easily towards a semi-familiar face making her way around the truck and depositing herself on the empty spot next to redhead.

Bella? Stella? Gretta?

Crap…she's forgotten. There's _one_ thing that hasn't changed from how she used to be versus who is now…

"Hey…" she greets, almost halfheartedly, giving the girl a small nod of acknowledgement before turning her attention back towards the throng of inebriated dancing people.

"Jenna said you'd probably forget my name because I only said it once a few hours ago so…Terra. Hey…"

The unexpected greet causes her to laugh loudly, her eyes going back to the other girl and noting, not for the first time that evening, that she meets a rare five of five criteria. Of course, she's not one to ever believe in coincidences…After all, she is here at the insistence of an ex rather than of her own volition so…

"You're Jenna's friend?"

Terra nods, eyes and attention undivided and solely on her. "Went to high school together."

"Same class?"

"Yup. Old friends…actually."

Older than her and so exudes a mature aura? Check.

Anna shakes her head inwardly, making a mental note to speak with her ex about not hooking her up with anyone, criteria met or not, for the time being if ever. She's starting to think that their break up may have been too mutual…

She's never one to be very rude though considering this girl probably got blindsided too so she turns back to her and with a friendly smile asks, "So Jenna's old friend Terra, what's your major?"

"Law."

Smart? Check.

Since the other girl is so forthcoming with her answer, the smaller girl divulges a bit of herself as well. "I'm studying art with an emphasis on history, but delving into all the different aspects…for now."

Surprisingly enough, the platinum blonde (check) nods as if already knowing this of her. "Jenna showed me your ice sculpture. It's beautiful."

And upon hearing that, Anna comes to the quick and obvious conclusion that _she's_ the only one getting blindsided. She lets the compliment slide, the only important thing in her mind worth saying aloud, "It's a collaborative piece. My sister had as much to do with it as I did."

She had read somewhere before that in order to deter unwanted advances, other people would hint of an existing relationship and add their significant other in the conversation. It dawns on her relatively quickly though that saying she has a girlfriend is an easier deterrence than saying she has a sister. The latter doesn't help any if at all…

Terra merely gives a glimmering, open toothed smile, eyelashes batting like butterfly wings. "Artistry must run in the family then."

Anna's not entirely sure on what to do with the now obvious display of interest being thrown her way. It's not as if she's ever turned someone's advances down—she has, especially when it came to guys that just didn't get the hint or girls that she just wasn't interested in. If this was a month ago, she has an inkling that this conversation would end quite differently.

After all, five out of five is no laughing matter…but what is a random girl filling out a criteria based solely on her sister who is, in all intents and purposes, already Anna's? Who in their right mind would choose a substitute over the real thing? And that's just mere physicality. There's zero emotional value and if given the chance, the smaller girl would bet her life savings that she would only feel an ounce of it when in comparison to how much Elsa has already given.

Breathing deeply to help gather her thoughts, wit, and courage, she turns to the still smiling girl and says evenly, "Terra—

"Oh hey! My two most favorite people…hitting it off. Who would've known?"

She swallows her words, dagger stares a quite tipsy ex-girlfriend who has a random girl hanging on her shoulder, and thank the gods that the rest of their party is making their way out of the still pumping crowd.

She's ready to get the hell out of here.

The truck creaks and sways as she jumps off of it in one fluid motion, sleep heavy legs complaining at the sudden movement as she attempts to shake what feels like a march of ants off. She doesn't notice Terra still watching her, waiting for an end to a call that had died in her lips as soon as she had heard Jenna's voice over the noise. She counts the seven heads that she arrived to this cornfield with, not caring for the two extras that had popped seemingly out of nowhere.

"Here babe. Get us all home…in one piece."

The redhead grabs the keys from Jenna's slack grip, eyes narrowing at the endearment. "Don't call me babe," she mutters and without anymore words, leads the loud, plastered group to Jenna's white SUV, unsurprised when Terra takes the front passenger seat with her while the rest clamber noisily and uncoordinatedly in the two back rows.

"Tricia's…address…is on the GPS…Anna," Jenna says from directly behind her, words slightly slurred and difficult to get out without a couple of pauses. "Turn on…the green button…and it'll…take you there…Then, my place…last. Terra'll take you home. Her car's parked…at the apartment."

She nods, poking at the green button as directed which starts the route loudly in an effeminate robotic voice. She turns the wheel and begins heading out of the dirt road, hardly paying attention to the combination of snores, giggles, and loud kisses springing from the back seat. She doesn't try to make anymore conversations with the pretty blonde next to her—she's not interested. In all likelihood, she never will be again based on her thoughts all evening. It's almost laughable that her sister, of all people, has turned her off from girls…

Terra keeps the silence for which she's thankful for and the car ride, aside from a discomfiting make out session that turns into something more as she reaches the entrance of the freeway, is relatively quick.

"The first and last time I volunteer as DD…" she mutters under her breath as she turns into the parking lot of her friend's apartment complex twenty-one minutes later, eliciting a giggle from the girl beside her.

She parks at the closest spot to Tricia's apartment which, because of the time (2:17), is nowhere near it at all. Looking at the rearview, she utters a sigh before exiting the vehicle and opening the door to help everyone, sans Jenna and the girl she's with, out and in the relative safety of the apartment. To her growing chagrin, this takes another fifteen minutes—drunk people are not the most coordinated, and she makes a mental note to thank these same people for putting up with her in the past when she had taken one shot too many. Preferably at a later time when they're all aware of the situation and not falling over their own legs.

"You know, for your first time being a DD, you're sure doing everything right," Terra comments with a smile.

She shrugs, hoping it doesn't look like she's ignoring what really is, a nice compliment.

"Thanks for helping. You didn't have to," she replies, turning the car out of the apartment complex and back into the quiet mid-suburban streets, heading to the familiar path leading to Jenna's apartment. She looks at the rearview to check on said girl and drags her eyes back to the road. Watching an ex make out with another girl has never been very fun…

It's not as if she has anymore emotion vested in the relationship. As far as she's concerned, Jenna and her number of past flings can do whatever they want with whomever they want…insofar as her not being in the same room.

"Sorry…this must be awkward," Terra says quietly next to her.

Anna can barely hear the other girl so it suffices to say Jenna would be none the wiser. She shrugs again, the neutral action fitting for how she feels towards this situation between her and the sober blonde. "I'll bust her ass about it later when she's aware that I'm making fun of her," she says with an easy grin. "Right now, the handicap wouldn't be very fair."

Terra laughs, the sound flat and off in her ears. It certainly doesn't have a lilt—doesn't make her heart drum wildly in her chest or pinches the bottom of her stomach in a feeling akin to nervousness. Then again, only one person has ever been able to elicit those reactions from her.

Whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder knew exactly what they were talking about…

The ride to Jenna's apartment grows pretty quiet after, and she knows she's mainly the reason why, but doesn't do a thing to remedy the situation. There's a small tendency of miscommunication or things that get lost in translation when she opens her mouth and she doesn't want this instance to be one of them. In all honesty, she just wants to be home and in front of her computer where everything doesn't feel trying and difficult. If this night has shown her anything, it's that she's over the party girl phase. It's lost its glimmer…if it really had one to begin with; beer goggles have been known to skew perspectives rather easily.

A part of her feels that she should be scared of how dependent she is of Elsa's presence since the other girl's arrival and consequent departure. She'd never needed such a strong connection to anyone before…but the thought that it's Elsa, above all else, makes it seem that much more irrefutable. If it was anyone else, she doesn't think she'd _need_ them this much…She knows it's because she can only trust the older girl with this kind of exposure. Someone else would either take advantage of the situation or just not know how to deal with it, and in essence, her.

The uncrowded streets leads to an easy drive, and before she knows it, she's parking Jenna's SUV in her designated spot, pulling the key out of the ignition before throwing it back to the blonde who's disentangling herself from her brunette catch of the night.

Anna gets out of the car and gives her friend a look, keeping the door open so that they can communicate properly. "Do you need me or Terra to take you two to your apartment?"

Jenna's lazy, sloshed smile plasters on her face. "Naw…we're good," she answers, albeit slowly. "Lock the car…we're gonna stay in…for a while."

The redhead sighs, but complies to her ex's direction yet again, locking her car door and hearing the other mechanisms falling in place. "G'night," she says and doesn't wait for an answer, shutting the door soon after and meeting up with a just as exasperated Terra at the other side.

"Sorry to inconvenience you," she says lowly, following the older girl to a parked white Camry. The unfortunate side effect of exhaustion from the late hour is catching up…and she doesn't want it to.

She fights a huge yawn as Terra gives an easy smile and a familiar careless shrug. "Not your fault."

They clamber in as soon as it's unlocked, the heat of the day clogged in the confines of the otherwise clean car. It's silent as the whirr of their seatbelt bites through the still air, the roar of the engine cutting through momentarily.

"So," Terra starts, stopping at the first stop sign and giving the redhead a dimpled smile. "Directions, possibly?"

Her tired mind wakes up just a tad bit. "Yeah, sorry. Left here. I'll pay attention. It's a little ways away…outskirts of the city limit."

"That's alright."

"You'll want to get to the Expressway heading to Long Island." Anna glances at the digital clock that reads 2:36 and presses her digits over just as tired eyes.

They stayed out much longer than she hoped.

"So, Anna…" the blonde beside her calls, gathering her attention from the darkened world outside to her company. "This is going to seem forward, but—

"The girl Jenna was trying to sell to you is kind of different from the one you encountered?"

She looks marginally surprised at how straightforward Anna is in reality, but the redhead stopped caring an hour ago. She nods after a brief respite. "Not…the exact words I would've used," she continues, tripping over the right words. "But yeah…You're…you're actually more pleasant than I expected, to be honest."

The smaller girl laughs, short and brash. "Why's that?"

"Well, considering it's obvious that you were forced to go out tonight at the insistence of friends and classmates, didn't partake in the usual soiree, and even volunteered as DD even though you looked like you wanted to jet at minute one."

Sounds about right…

"I had a planned night and Jenna took it away with convincing words…" she mutters, her attention back to the dimly lit highway. "I don't think I was pleasant company by any standard. You just don't know me enough to be able to tell the difference…and my friends would, but they're too drunk which is kind of how I like them."

She sounds standoffish. And she kind of means to be…because she doesn't want this night ending in the weirdest, most awkward way.

Jenna is going to pay come tomorrow…or whenever she sees her next.

There's a pregnant pause before, "I…heard about…"

_Yeah, who hasn't…_

"Sorry…for your loss, even though you must be tired of hearing it."

Anna shrugs, unaffected. She really is. Over the course of the last couple of weeks, she's learned to just let it slide. Better to be jaded than ruining a whole day…She decides to steer them to a topic that is less awkward for her, and more for the other girl. She's much too tired to be dealing with social convention and proper cues.

"So isn't it weird for an old friend to be hooking you up with her ex? Or are you two _that_ close?" She laughs outwardly at the palpable blush riding on the near stranger's face.

"It wasn't a set-up or anything," the blonde says rather defensively. "Jenna invited me out, kind of hinted that there was a friend of hers who may need a partner for the night, and it could or couldn't end well. I guess she wasn't aiming for me on really looking forward to meeting you, but after showing your ice sculpture, it kind of ended up being that way. Then you came off kind of anti-social for the rest of the night and _not_ like how she says you are and she explained about…your parents…so, it's understandable, really. In general though, you're…as I said, you're definitely more pleasant than I first expected."

The redhead wasn't actually expecting all of that, but she finds appreciation in the other girl's honesty nonetheless. And because of it, she resolves to nip it in the bud before it can become an unsalvageable mess.

"I'm not interested…in anything…for the foreseeable future," Anna states evenly, eyes locked on the fading and reappearing yellow lines, markers, and turtle bumps littering the road. "Sorry if you were lead to believe otherwise, but I'm just…"

_Taken…_

"You don't have to explain."

_Thank god…_

"And thank you…for your honesty. Really, Anna, you're…cool. You're a good person."

She's taken aback by the compliment she isn't expecting, and upon a chance glance at a genuine smile flitting her way from the blonde, she finds herself smiling truly for the first time that evening as well. She beams at the older girl, the latter chuckling at her sudden mood switch.

"You'll want exit thirty-five," she instructs, just as they pass exit thirty-three, and she can safely say that her company for the evening really wasn't that bad at all. If she wasn't in the same mindset as she is now, there could be a chance for something…more…but she dismisses the thought just as quickly as it came. She's quite happy where she is now, so there's no reason to ruminate on other possibilities.

Terra sighs, loudly and clearly, gathering her attention again as they reach her exit. "This is going to sound…bad."

Copper eyebrows stitch to a frown in outward askance.

"So…Jenna was _really_ hoping we'd hit it off…"

"Okay?"

"And we're both in a mutual understanding that, that isn't going to happen."

"Yeah…"

"But I live in Jersey…"

Anna eyes widen. "Oh…"

_That's a three hour drive…_is the unspoken knowledge between the two of them.

Terra shakes her head. "I'll drop you off and just go back to Jenna's for the night. Don't worry about it."

"I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy," the redhead mutters. "She's really loud mid-romp."

The blonde rubs her face with an open palm, groaning loudly, "Oh, god, I didn't want to know that…"

"Well from where this was going, you would know it eventually…" Anna trails off, but shrugs rather easily, the decision set in her mind. "You can stay the night."

Terra shakes her head. "I don't want to impose."

"You won't," the smaller girl says resolutely and shakes her head as an added measure. "Trust me, you won't."

"I can sleep in the couch…"

"There's room…don't worry."

Silence then, "Sorry to be putting this on you Anna."

And she sees the authentic apology in the other girl's face and tone, so it makes the decision that much easier. "No sweat," she replies with an easy grin, then, "Turn left on the light."

It takes another ten minutes for them to finally turn into the estate, and she doesn't have to see the awed understanding dawn on her…friend's?…face to know that it's there.

"As I said, there's room," she says simply. "You can park at the front near the entrance."

"You're sure?"

"You sound like you're afraid it's going to be towed away…"

"Kind of."

Anna laughs, waving her hand dismissively. The impending excitement of finally being able to see Elsa has woken her somewhat and she's itching to get to her room just for the chance to speak with the older girl regardless of how short that time may be. She considers the day, the weekend, and concludes that she hasn't had an all-nighter in a while and tonight may be the first in a long time.

She's not aware of her palpable excitement until she's out of the car even before the ignition gets cut, her company following as quickly as possible after her. The door opens as soon as her foot reaches the first step, the light from inside the foyer catching her attention before Kai standing at the foot of it.

"Kai, you didn't have to be up," she says with an apologetic look that the congenial man just smiles at.

"I couldn't sleep Miss Anna, pay it no mind," he answers easily, and bows once to Terra.

"You have a _butler_?" the blonde whispers in her ear incredulously which merits a distracted nod at her end.

"Kai, my friend Terra, Terra, Kai," she introduces quickly, and steps inside the cool abode as the old man steps away and makes room for the two of them to enter. "Is the guest bedroom set up?"

She's known him long enough to register the surprise in his eyes and it stutters her step momentarily, but he catches himself and nods assuredly, "Of course Miss Anna. Will one of the west wing guest bedrooms be sufficient?"

"Any," she says dismissively, turns to Terra and continues, "Thanks for the ride Terra. I'll get your number from Jenna. We should hang out sometime."

"Yeah, of course."

She can tell the easy dismissal and her sudden wakefulness is jarring to the other girl, but she stops caring, turns, and almost sprints up the stairs, and towards the west wing.

Her heart thuds erratically from the sudden burst of energy and excitement, flinging her bedroom door wide open, and pushing her laptop screen away to fight the glare. It takes her eyes a moment to adjust, but when it does, she's mildly disappointed at seeing an otherwise empty, but still bright room. She glances at the clock: 3:10, notes that it's after midnight, but again, it is a Friday (technically Saturday in both time zones) so Elsa can't be asleep yet…

"Elsa?" she calls, testing her voice, and waits, patiently, eyes darting all over the screen.

From her vantage point, she can see that the blonde's newly bought laptop is placed at the edge of her bed, the open door allowing her to see the hallway and another closed door beyond.

She remembers her phone conversation with the older girl, pulls out her phone, and before she can press the call button, sudden movement catches her peripherals. Her heart spikes, excitement coursing through her veins before dread.

Her phone makes a dull thud on the bed, suddenly cold fingers grasping the edges of her computer and her face so close to the screen she can feel her eyes dilating as it searches the left hand corner, at a closed door that had just opened and closed again too soon for her to have seen anything properly.

But the niggling feeling in the back of her mind is unsettling…because she _knows_ what she saw, but is unwilling to believe it. The longest minute passes, her heart sinking lower and lower as every second expires. Finally, just as perspiration from her cold fingers begins smudging the bright screen, the door opens, and the dread drops to the bottom of her churning stomach, the tightness in her dry throat unforgivable.

_"__You're not tied to me."_

Anna didn't need a reminder…but apparently Elsa does.

Her loud sigh bounces in her silent room, her back meeting the coldness of her comforters as her eyes shut tightly in tandem. No matter what she does, the picture of some random girl in short shorts and a tank top, looking _way_ too comfortable in her sister's dwelling for her liking, isn't erasable.

The frustration bubbles in her throat, first from the horrible night and now…this. And she knows she shouldn't jump into such early conclusions, but the disgruntlement of her ruined evening and the building vexation from the last week and a half makes clear thinking impossible.

She rubs her eyes roughly, almost to the point where it hurts, before opening them and staring at the ceiling. She knows she won't find her answers there, but the fast decision has already been made, and with one last look at the empty room flashing in the other side of the webcam, she reaches over, closes the lid of the computer, and gets up from the bed.

Weariness leaves her body, replaced by focus and a clear goal. Stashing her phone back in her pocket, she sets to get ready, her brain going through a mental checklist of what she needs to do before doing it. All of it.

It's five in the morning by the time she's ready, and she hates to do it, but she knocks on Kai's door with a knapsack slung on her right shoulder, waiting momentarily before the old man, still in his butler uniform surprisingly enough, opens the door as if waiting for her.

"Good morning Miss Anna," he greets with the same smile, eyes crinkling warmly at her expectant face.

"I need a ride," she says simply, to which he just nods to. "When you come back, can you make sure my friend gets a good breakfast before she goes? And…her tank is almost empty. Fill it, please ."

"Certainly."

She nods, jaw set and eyes serious. "Let's go."

O—O—O

_The alarm clock is loud, repetitive, angry…and she stops it with a sleepy hand laden by a just as sleepy redhead. _

_"__Oh god, no…" Anna mutters atop her, head curling deeper into her neck. _

_She cradles the smaller body, her lips ghosting over a warm forehead. "Stay here and sleep, Anna," she says softly, answered immediately by a vehement shake of the head. _

_"__I'm up," her sister groans sleepily, eliciting a chuckle from the older girl. _

_Affection blooms in her chest as the smaller girl lifts her head tiredly, and even more-so when a line of drool flows from her lips to her chin. Elsa doesn't hesitate to reach up and wipe the wetness away with her thumb, Anna giving her a distasteful look that she merely smiles at. _

_"__We'd probably save time…and water…if we shower together." _

_The blonde laughs at the redhead's lethargic statement, loving the dopey grin that greets her. If she were to wake up this way every morning, she'd be happy for the rest of her existence. _

_"__Aren't we lucky we have more than one bathroom," she says with a smirk and sits up, forcing the younger girl to get up with her and lean heavily against her body. _

_Anna's arms lock tightly around her waist, face buried into her neck again and she knows they need to get up and get going, but she holds the smaller girl just as tightly, wanting this moment to last because it's too fleeting, and they have an upwards of two hours…less…_

_They _are_ able to get up eventually, separating with hesitance to different bathrooms and twenty minutes later they're clambering in the Lincoln, seat belts forgotten and bodies attached to the hip as soon as they're both seated. It's silent as they're driven closer and closer to the airport, Anna's fingers clutched tightly at her blouse as she brushes through a bushy red mane. _

_She can feel the desolation thrumming off of the smaller girl's body, but neither say a word, both resigned to the blocks lodged deep in their throats and the queasiness aching in their stomachs, perpetually growing per disappearing mile. It feels like she _should_ say something, repeat nonsensical words that she knows won't mean anything in a matter of minutes just for the sake of giving her sister some piece of mind, but they're both aware of its uselessness, and reality and all its bitterness is already in the horizon, rising in tandem to the early morning sun. _

_Her breaths are at their shallowest when the looming figure of JFK International comes in full view, Anna's grip tightening until the blood's drained from the smaller girl's knuckles and all Elsa could do to alleviate the growing tension is hold her further inwards. _

_All too soon the car is parked at the curb, her eyes flitting up to the rearview mirror where she meets Kai's saddened eyes before the man looks away, gets out of the car, and momentarily opens the door at the curbside. _

_The blonde ignores the nondescript male voice over the speakers of a no parking rule and waits…waits until Anna's grip lessens, waits until she retreats from the hug on her own volition, and finally until the smaller girl inhales a sharp, heavy breath, and climbs out of the car. _

_Blinking the weight and prickling from her eyes, she too draws in some air, holding it in her lungs momentarily before exhaling and opening the door to her side simultaneously. She stands before Kai at the foot of the trunk as he opens it and takes her one small carry-on out, lifting it and placing it on the dirty pavement before turning to her, the same warm, inviting smile upon his familiar face. _

_"__Thank you Kai." _

_Not just for taking her to the airport, or calling her when the incident happened, and certainly not only for a simple thing like taking her luggage out for her. For everything. Every little thing. Without this man she and Anna would've been helpless these last several days—blind and even more alone than they already were._

_His deep chocolate eyes twinkle, the edges crinkling in warm understanding as she puts a ginger arm around his neck and pull him in for a tight hug, her eyes locking with her sister's who merely stands aside and watches as he returns the affectionate gratitude. _

_"__You're always welcome Miss Elsa," he says softly, patting her back good-naturedly. _

_She leans her forehead on his strong shoulder, his jacket emitting their familiar laundry detergent's scent. It reminds her strongly of her family, because that's what this man is regardless of paper or unnecessary specifics. Kai had always been there for them. Come hell or high water, and she knows he always will be. Because just as much as she feels he's a part of their family, she knows, just from the way he looks at them, that he feels the same way. _

_"__Please take care of Anna during my absence," she whispers, not because she doesn't want her sister to hear, but because the words are difficult to say through her parched, throbbing throat. _

_"__I will." _

_Strong. Resolute. _

_She steps back from their hug and gives the balding man a watery, grateful smile, an expression he mimics to a tee, before grabbing her carry-on and extending a strong hand to her sister who takes it without hesitance. She leads the two of them to the air conditioned airport, neither minding the controlled chaos in the already busy building and stop in front of an unoccupied check-in computer terminal, dropping the bag unceremoniously on the floor and inputting all necessary information on the screen with one hand. She refuses to release Anna's until the very bitter end and it would seem her sister shares the same silent sentiment. _

_The machine prints her ticket after a few minutes and after she secures it in her empty back pocket, she grabs her carry-on and proceeds to the entranceway to customs, the redhead following every heavy footed step. _

_They stop just as the crowd of waiting people thicken, the digital clock in one of the many screens showing statuses for flights reading 6:11, and she finally turns to her sister, blue eyes with sparkling green specks watery, worried, depressed, resolute—so many emotions it's hard to keep track. It makes it difficult to swallow the impending guilt down. _

_She leads the two of them to a small nook tucked away at the side, devoid of activity and showcasing some art piece neither care for at the moment. After leaning her bag against the wall, she stands toe to toe with the smaller girl and inhales a shaky breath, her free hand finding the other's in a familiar hold. _

_She locks eyes with Anna's, her own darting between each orb. "Class ends at 6:30. I'll be home by seven. Ten, your time. I'll Skype you as soon as I'm able to." _

_White teeth graze over a bottom lip in anxiousness before the redhead nods, her eyebrows setting into an even deeper frown. _

_The dismal look, although completely inadvertent, drives a nail to her already pounding heart. She breathes a shallow air to regain control and, after a moment, continues,"Don't hesitate to call or text or whatever. If I don't answer right away, I will as soon as I'm able to. Above all, take care of yourself. Eat well, study hard, and if things become too difficult, call me. Talk to me. I may not be here, but I'll do anything I can to—_

_The rough hug forces a cut off, but she doesn't care. She merely stands her ground and return the backbreaking embrace coating in sheer desperation. Anna's fingers are clawing—digging in her back painfully, but she pays it no mind. She simply locks the smaller girl in a tight embrace, face turning minimally onto sweet smelling copper strands and planting a kiss on a warm, right temple. _

_"__I love you," she breathes, eardrums pounding the erratic, painful heartbeats in her ears. _

_Anna responds by holding her tighter, shoulders shaking violently as broken apologies begin streaming in her ears. _

_"__No, no," she coos, trying in vain to wipe away the impending tears. "Don't be sorry…Nothing to be sorry about." _

_The gritting of teeth upon her ears is hard to listen to, Anna trying to grasp for control over flooded emotions, but failing miserably._

_And she can't leave…Not like this. Not in this way…_

_"__Anna…" she calls, leaning back so she can see the other's visage. A tragically beautiful tear stained face unable to meet her stare greets her, resurfacing the shallow stabs emanating from her chest and making something simple like breathing, an enormously difficult task. Her hands grasp each side of the smaller girl's cheeks, thumbs catching, wiping every cascading teardrop. "I'll stay." _

_Anna shakes her head ardently, and after a rough exhale, takes an enormous step back, her spine colliding with the wall behind her. Elsa stands her ground as the redhead swipes her eyes with her wrist and the back of her palm, red, puffy, green-blues finally able to stare at her with the same steadfastness as the day before. _

_Her smile is watery, _beautiful_. "I told myself I wouldn't do this, but…" _

_The blonde locks her jaw to keep from speaking._

_"__You have to go. I have to stay. Forward Progression." Anna nods unyieldingly, broken in seconds by a quivering lip. "It's just hard…but trust me. I'm…I'll be fine." _

_Elsa's not sure whether she should touch her again, so she remains still, helpless fingers curling and clutching automatically at the base of her stomach. _

_"__Elsa Andersen, you are needed at the Delta Airlines booth at gate A25. Elsa Andersen, please proceed to gate A25." _

_The turning of their heads to the ceiling is simultaneous, and the panic in her system reaches a new high. Confusion hits her, indecisiveness and other plans of action coursing in her wired brain that she can't seem to grasp quickly enough which just piles the anxiety even more. _

_But it seems her sister has made the decision for her with a small, but adamant word. "Go." _

_She breathes a shallow, but shaky air, nods, bends, picks up her carry-on and begins to turn. _

_"__Elsa!" _

_The grip on her wrist is strong, her body swaying back from a rough and unexpected pull. It feels for a moment like a scene from a movie, slow motion and all. Her mind registers the clearness of her sister's eyes, each green-blue orb locked on hers in dire concentration. The hand over her wrist isn't painful—on the contrary it feels like a tether to something more important than the entire world. Then, before she can grasp the situation, it's on fast forward, her body colliding with Anna's as she's pulled completely into the smaller girl. Their breaths mingle momentarily between them before a small lean diminishes the distance._

_Pause. _

_Her eyes are wide open. Anna's own are still looking at her in that resolute and concentrated way before they decidedly shut close, and the smaller girl's lips are moving against her own, fingers bunched at the front of her shirt and her wrist locked inside sweaty palms. Thinking flies out of the window and instinct steps in, and she's quite aware that it's rough and messy and her own hands and body are pushing the smaller girl into the wall, bruised lips fighting for dominance, slick tongues explorative. _

_In her lightheaded mind, she vaguely registers that this is happening. It's not a figment of her imagination and she's not dreaming…hopefully, but she pushes it back in favor of not thinking…at all. She merely puts her all in it, and is only shocked back to reality when a hot moan expels from Anna's mouth and dissolves in her throat. She draws back, but only minimally, fast breaths shared between them, and she can hear the roar of her pounding blood in her ears, but ignores it. _

_She opens her eyes, connects with just as glazed green-blues, and she sighs outwardly, leaning their foreheads together and bumping their noses in the process. _

_"__Anna…" The name sounds guttural and exposed. It should sound wrong, but it comes out the exact opposite. _

_"__Elsa Andersen, you are needed at the Delta Airlines booth at gate A25. Elsa Andersen, please proceed to gate A25."_

_"__I know!" she growls irritatedly at the ceiling, finally drawing a laugh from the smaller girl still sandwiched tightly against the wall and her body. _

_She looks back down at her sister and sees a brightness in her expression that wasn't there before. And she wants to sit down, and talk about it—dissect it until they're both in the same page, but the same word stops her yet again, only this time, the softness laced in the other girl's tone is obvious and unmissable. _

_"__Go." _

_She shuts her eyes tightly, rubs their foreheads in response to her growing frustration and confusion and only opens them again when the younger girl's palms are covering her cheeks. _

_"__You're going to miss your flight," the smaller girl states evenly, thumb caressing her still damp lips distractedly. "Call me when you land and we'll Skype when you get home. I love you." _

_Anna leans forward again, lips meeting hers softly, chastely, and the blonde is only able to respond based on reflex. _

_Green-blue eyes stare at her unwaveringly. "Go." _

_The smaller girl's hands fall between them, the blonde's eyes glancing at a sweet tongue rewetting still bruised lips before she's able to connect the right synapses to nod. _

_"__I love you too." _

_Anna merely beams at her as she automatically grabs her carry-on again and steps back, the distance between them seemingly farther than the reality of two and a half feet. _

_"__Elsa Andersen, you are needed at the Delta Airlines booth at gate A25. Elsa Andersen, please proceed to gate A25."_

_"__Ten," Elsa states loudly, getting a soft smile and an understanding nod._

_Before anything else can happen, she gives one more look at the smaller girl and turns, her body taking her automatically to a shorter line for first class/business class passengers heading towards customs. She pays zero attention to her surroundings, her mind buzzing at the occurrence of the past five minutes, the same words reverberating in a ping pong tournament in her mind. _

What just happened?

_Shaking her head to clear some of the dizziness away, she absentmindedly brushes her still tingling lips with her left hand. _

_She's not sure…but she has a five hour plane ride to think about it. _

**AN: Sorry, too tired for coherent words this week. See you all next week…hopefully. **

**OMGYEA: Your couple of reviews had me laughing. Always know that this story will be here, so if you need to study, or nap, or god forbid, sleep…please do that first! And don't fail your classes! Was it really worth it? I kind of hope so…**

**CanITellUSmThin: Glad you're liking the story so far and I enjoyed the progression of your reading based on your reviews. **

**IronShounen: My hope is that it will come as fast without lessening the quality. My half ass editing in this chapter may be noticeable though…but it's late /sigh.**

**Icy-Windbreeze: I shall endeavor to try to get a good working week started with an update! And Elsa's confusion is heightened at the end of this one. **

**dragon matt blue: Glad you're liking it and here's some more of the promised story.**

**YuriZuki: The stalking has ended?…until next week…**

**iwantaparrot1: I had this crack-fic idea for Rude set up…and then the end of last chapter took over and it worked out…I suppose haha. Yes, moving at a snail's pace is still moving, so if the plot isn't driving itself, the characters might as well be developed, right?**

**Guest: Haha okayu…Food is very important to me! I can't seem to remove it from my stories…maybe I should. I'm trying to separate myself from portions of my stories, but it just doesn't work out…maybe no personal touch? Fluff scenes are difficult only because I get bashful with myself (this makes absolutely no sense) when I begin writing it. **

**SakuraAyanami: Thank you for pointing out what you feel are highlights for the chapter. Psychiatrist!Kristoff is fun to write so that scene was relatively easy. As for the very last one, I was iffy to make it honestly. Personally, I love songs. I'm one of those people that doesn't go a day without stuffing my ears with earphones and listening to at least thirty minutes of non-stop music. Whenever I hear certain lyrics, they pop and remind me of certain things, and this fic I showed what it was apparently. Regardless, I'm glad you got to know the titles because of it. **

**Guest: Don't judge a fic by its number of reviews…could be a moral of a story? Honestly I'm not surprised by this fic's number, merely humbled. One must be thankful for every one that they get :D Thank you for ****_your_**** review. I'm glad I can provide a short reprieve from studying. Be sure to pass your class/test though!**

**Jitterbugglie: Oh, hello :) Your gushes are more than welcome here so even when you feel like you're not making sense, type away. Rest assure I read all of them and appreciate all the kind words and comments. I've noticed (especially in this story) that I've delved more into character development than is seriously possible. It makes me wonder if Anna has grown much considering this chapter is another large chunk of her perspective and, unlike other chapters, something actually kind of happens in the end. Yay, hello plot! Welcome back…(Trust me, it won't stay very long). In all frankness, I think I could make an entire snail pace story just writing the goings on in their minds, and I'm glad it's not straying from their canon counterparts. Let's hope this is an enjoyable experience much like the others. **

**Volchise: Let me know when you write your own fic! I'd love to read it :) And don't be envious…seriously…there's nothing to be envious about.**

**barbara: Haha, AU of my AU…I'm definitely keeping it in mind. You'll just have to stay tuned to what I plan on doing to these two cuz it might start being bumpy right when they're finally in the same page. I think…that may be all I'm willing to give for now. As for the other scenarios, all of them are plausible, and in my honest opinion, a happy ending can still be merited even with all of those written in. **

**Shadowfax321: She jumped pretty far from consideration to kisses eh? Maybe…too far? **

**Guest: Haha…yeah, I'm sure this was a mistake, but…yeah…**

**McHaudegen: PSA: Long reviews do not, I REPEAT DO NOT, bore me. I appreciate the time and effort spent into making them and I enjoy reading every word, trust me. With that said, thank you for your long review :) I'm glad all the scenes floating in my head worked well—they all feel like little plot bunnies waiting to be assembled into a bigger plot. Now, let me tell you a little bit about me and songfics. I hate them. I hate them to such a degree, you don't even know. Okay, maybe hate is a too strong word…I can't stand them. That sounds better I guess. So, writer, why would you do that last bit then, is probably your question. Haha…uhh, things are okay, so long as it's in moderation. That very last bit, I was experimenting—seeing if it worked or not. A lot of the songfics I've stumbled upon use the song (the whole effin song) and use the lyrics (all the freakin' lyrics) to get their point across. That's what I hate most about it. When the lyrics read for example: (Sorry for the Taylor Swift reference, it's stuck in my head oddly enough) Walkin' the streets with you in your worn out jeans. And the next line, is in the perspective of the character and it exactly copies that line verbatim. Zero originality…Christ…oh god you caught me mid-rant. I'm so sorry…I'm gonna stop. Cuz…yeah, I'm just gonna stop…right here. I hope you like this one, and don't worry…no more songs in this fic. :)**

**Kurrent: Your review made me :D Just wanted to say that, first and foremost, so thank you. Bringing a bit of yourself into a story seems inevitable, considering that life experiences create some building blocks that thrive on release instead of suppression. I think readers who have followed me since I started writing probably has seen a portion of my life that I can't staunch out of my writing. Whether this is a good thing or a bad one, is yet left to be seen. This unique style that you claim I have…haha I honestly, I don't see or acknowledge it. I…start to write a story and my brain is set on scenes and how they act and I attempt to get them from one scene to the next with their thought processes all intact if it's not already gutted and dissected to be played with next scene/chapter. As inadvertent as it is, I hope I don't lose it, considering that it seems to be helping me more than anything. Not being able to compare my story to any other ones (even with the same plot device) sounds like a crowning achievement. I shall gladly accept my prize! A happy ending is all I have planned and judging from what I've put these girls through in my story, they're deserving of every happiness in the world (cuz the one I put them in just…straight out sucks). I shall continue telling my story because that's all I know how to do haha. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well, and thank you very much for the kind review. **


	10. Chapter Ten: Claim

Chapter 10: Claim

Two blank screens greet her, and the same nervousness as the night before churns her stomach into renewed queasiness. PandasAreLazy94 remains offline and she hasn't received a text or call or…anything.

This is what retribution must feel like…

And of course she deserves it. This is only a small taste of what Anna must've endured during the first few weeks after the blonde's departure to the other side of the country and the former had attempted to contact her like crazy. Different splays of emotion challenge and topple one another: nervousness, fright, consternation—the worst of the worst case scenarios coming and going, replaced by another just as plausible. And it's eating at her stomach that the smaller girl just isn't answering _at all._

Maybe she shouldn't have acted so unaffected during their call yesterday—outwardly voiced her vehemence of the smaller girl's sudden invitation to normalcy. She had been looking forward to Skyping with the younger girl all day and barely able to round up just enough concentration to at least _look_ like she's paying attention in class. It must've been so out of place, like an episode of _The Twilight Zone_…seeing the local ice queen dash out of the classroom first in barely concealed excitement instead of taking her time like she usually does. She even drove like a true Californian and had gone at least ten over the speed limit on her way home…only to receive an inevitable phone call that had drained all the excitement out.

Next time she vows to be selfish and say no…but the reality of the situation is that she and Anna _had_ been spending all their time together, and she knows it may be normal for someone like her, but for her sister to be relegated to her bedroom all night and day to keep the taller girl company?

Anna needed some away time, even if the smaller girl didn't think so herself. It can't be healthy to have so many friends and still feel lonely…So of course Elsa had said she should go without sounding like a petulant six year old that had her toy taken away abruptly, even though that's exactly what it felt like at the time. Because above all else, the kiss notwithstanding, she's still the older sister, and knows what's good for the redhead and will act upon it at any given day.

But it's nearing eight in the morning. Their Skype connection was killed around after midnight last night, which is normal—wifi connections are botchy at times and that's completely understandable. But since then, there's been nothing from the younger girl. It's eleven in New York now. Unless she did drink like she said she wouldn't (Elsa would be more than willing to forgive her for it regardless), Anna should be up. The blonde should at least have a text by now. Either that or her Skype calls should be ringing off the hook…

She presses the home button of her phone and groans loudly at a still empty screen.

_Where are you sunflower? _Light blue eyes gaze at her ceiling in a mix of longing and anxiety as the thought easily passes by.

As the second week of separation draws to a near close, she finds her mind had begun nicknaming her sister quite ardently. Of course it's not something she's still able to say out loud—a pet name for the smaller girl sounds exactly like they have the type of relationship she's been wanting and simultaneously dreading, and she's still not quite ready for it yet…She's still hoping she can change Anna's mind regarding their present relationship, even though it's become all she's ever dreamed of and more. After everything that they've been through, Anna deserves…normalcy. Not boring per se—never boring. Her sister's not the type to want boring. But also not dangerous and taboo and…life altering, and Elsa knows Anna being with her rather than any other person produces all three consequences. It's not something she feels is worth it.

Anna certainly deserves someone more—the blonde just doesn't see herself as someone who's worth all the trouble and inevitable heartache if this all turns to hell.

How can she be looking forward and dreading her return to New York at the same time?

She sighs loudly and rolls so that she's sitting at the edge of a sweat stained bed. She doesn't want to look at the thermostat—it'll just tell her it's over ninety degrees inside her hell on earth condo and she doesn't need a reminder that her AC broke down conveniently at the start of a heat wave parching all of middle and southern California. Rubbing a tired face, she's not surprised when a sheen of sweat comes away with her hand, the heavy air clotting burns in her lungs with every shallow breath.

She's about to get up when her phone rings abruptly, sending her heart thumping in excitement. She doesn't bother looking at the number—just answers the phone with a breathless, "Hello?"

_"__Is this Miss Andersen?"_

The obviously middle aged man in the other line makes her outwardly deflate, her back meeting her messy sheets as she falls back onto the bed tiredly. "Yes?" She can't stop the irritation from coating her voice.

_"__This is Doug from Central Heating. I'll be coming up around eleven today to fix your AC. I just wanted to let you know so someone can be home to open the door for me." _

"Yes, I'll be home," she mutters as her jaw sets firmly, the sound of her gritting teeth echoing loudly in her ears.

_"__Good. I'll see you when I get there."_

She doesn't bother with the pleasantries and just turns off her phone, absentmindedly gripping it to the point where the rubber cover bends from friction.

Where is she? Why hasn't she called? Why isn't she _returning _calls?

Elsa briefly wonders if calling Kai for this seems like an overreaction, but finds she doesn't care anymore. Hovering her phone over her face, she slides, punches, and pokes a few choice buttons and a moment later, hears the ringing of the landline in her ear.

_"__Hello, Andersen residence." _

"Marie? Hello. This is Elsa," she greets, hoping she sounds natural and cordial.

_"__Hello Miss Elsa,"_ the maid responds from the other line pleasantly. _"How are you?"_

"Fine." She doesn't have time for small talk… "May I speak with Kai?"

_"__Of course. He stepped outside momentarily to service Miss Anna's guest's car, but he'll be back shortly."_

It takes her a moment to connect the maids words, but when they do, the inevitable collapse of her lungs and desert dryness in her throat is all that's palpable.

"I see." Her voice sounds faraway, detached. Not one to jump into conclusions without all of the evidence presented to her, she asks, "The guest…is it Kristoff?"

_"__No, miss. I can't say I've ever seen her before…but she seems like a wonderful girl." _It sounds like the end was added just for her sake, but it does nothing to alleviate the fire beginning to erupt and spread in her chest. If anything, it's a growing addition to it.

Frustrated fingers come up to clamp the bridge of her nose, her other hand gripping the phone so tightly that there's a likely possibility one or the other could break.

_"__Miss Elsa?"_

And it seems she's taken too long to answer, but her mind, stuck in a maze of doubt, questions, and last, but certainly not least…betrayal, makes responding to _anything_ difficult.

"Yes, thank you Marie. He's busy, so I won't wait," she manages to croak out, the gritting of her teeth tightening the muscles in her jaw quite painfully. "Is Anna there?"

_"__Miss Anna had already left for the day when I got here miss." _

That doesn't help anything at all…

"Thank you. That'll be all."

_"__Have a good day Miss Elsa."_

She doubts it. "You too."

She lets the call end by itself, the phone flinging off of her hand and to some random corner of the bed. Eyes stray at the ceiling, stays there, and she's not sure how long she lays, half her body on the bed, while her legs dangle off of the edge of it, bare feet touching the cool ground.

Her mind is a hazy puzzle, unsolvable therefore irritating. But really, if she pauses long enough to think about it, what's there to try and piece together? It's quite obvious what had happened last night, isn't it?

_"__You're not tied to me."_

She feels a crushing in her heart, painful and excruciating. Anna had assured her she wouldn't… 'hook up' with anyone—Anna's words, and all of Elsa wants to believe it because her sister isn't the type to say something so assiduously and not mean every word…But what in the actual hell is she supposed to think with everything that's happened since last speaking with the smaller girl?

She combs frustrated fingers through her messy hair, grabbing her phone again and redialing the redhead's number.

_"__Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system…"_

She lets the answering machine roll, and when it's finished, states sharply, "Anna, when you get this call me back" and presses the end call button again before dropping the phone back on her haphazard bed.

How is it possible for her to be feeling so tired already when she'd just woken up? More than anything, how is it that she can feel this angry over a relationship that only minutes ago she was trying to find loopholes around, and now that it's presented to her, on a silver platter no less, she wants to thrash her entire room in surmounting frustration at the unfairness of the entire situation?

Shaky fingers claw through her messy mane, strained roots complaining from the rough absentminded tug and pull.

She needs to pull herself together…

This is the first time anything regarding matters of the heart has really affected her. She shouldn't be surprised though, considering all the emotion she's vested when it comes to her little sister, but…

A sharp exhale releases from her nostrils, her eyes glancing at the leftmost wall of her room. What she sees there is her anchor, irrefutable evidence that every fleeting worst case scenario in her mind can't be happening…because she _knows_ Anna…and the smaller girl isn't capable of such a deceit the likes of which her overactive mind is feeding her in constant repeats.

_The days will be long and trying, but every second that passes ensures your inevitable return. I'll be here waiting. _

Even though her heart is hammering in hollow thuds and her stomach feels like a gaping black hole, Elsa finds she's able to smile, her eyes raking at a drawing of herself Anna apparently had the time to do, although she's not quite sure when the younger girl was able to do it, and the flowing script (bubbly and cursive and so Anna) in the open space beside the drawing giving her so much more confidence this bleak, blistering morning than the first time she stumbled upon the picture.

She gets up from her bed, the bottom of her feet thankful for the coldness of the wooden floors and steps towards the framed drawing, fingertips dancing over written words under the smooth glass.

The last week and a half passes through her mind: the laughs, arguments, bickers, teases—every cherished time spent with the smaller girl. The reciprocation was heady and palpable. A final conclusion is drawn in the blonde's mind.

Anna loves her and this is a misunderstanding that _will_ be explained.

In due time…She just has to be patient. Anna will call her back and all will be right with her world again when she does.

She blinks once, twice, before turning around and making her bed, pushing everything to the back burner of her already brimming mind and setting to begin her day. A knock on her door resounds just as she's gathering some clothes for a much needed shower—only 8:30 and she's already sweating profusely.

Strikingly green eyes meet her as she opens the door just wide enough for open interaction.

"Hey…umm…the guys bought some stuff for breakfast. They didn't want to raid your fridge seeing as you're already letting us kinda wreck the place. Did you want breakfast and how would you like your eggs?"

She's taken aback by her classmates' consideration of her, but all she's able to do is give a serious nod back to the brunette, stepping forward and closing her bedroom door behind her.

"Sure. Over easy, but I'll be showering first anyway."

"Yeah, no prob," is the easy reply, followed by a just as beaming smile.

Light blue eyes give the girl before her an inadvertent elevator look. A floral bra is almost see-through under a thin white camisole and too short, shorts.

The blonde's eyebrows stitch in recollection. Was she wearing that last night?

"Sorry, it's…really hot."

Elsa merely shakes her head. She understands too well of the temperature of her abode. "An electrician will come by later to fix the AC."

"Yeah, I have…I'll change back…to my…clothes…"

It makes no difference to her so she doesn't add anymore to their almost conversation. She opens the door in front of her, steps in, and closes it without further acknowledgement, setting her items atop the bathroom counter and turning the shower on. She's hoping the cold deluge will keep her mind away from the perpetual stress, and even more-so that a message or a missed call will be waiting for her by the end of it.

O—O

There's never been an instance in which she's been thankful that her home isn't made for aesthetics. In a normal day, the sunken living room would be housing the bare minimum: a white leather sofa, a decent sized flat screen TV atop an entertainment system, and to the side her drawing table. She can safely and easily say that she's probably used the drawing table more than watched TV which would make sense for all her consideration to pop culture which is a bare minimum. With the addition of her classmates' items and their final project taking up more than forty percent of the space, she's only glad now that she never cared for useless trinkets that would be used for decor and the like—there'd be no room for anything. The uselessness of her sofa and TV are as tangible as their current position in the room: tucked in the lower corner, up and out of the way. The coffee table, because of its usefulness, is off to the side, blueprints, sketches, drawings, and ideas littering the entire surface haphazardly. An industrial sized fan is at the doorway, pointed away from everything so the crazy amount of paper strewn everywhere doesn't turn into an unmanageable tornado, but still able to keep the room ventilated to keep everyone sane and cool, but barely. The only place that doesn't look as if the entire world's paper supply blew up on it would be their project: a six by six miniature blank model. What they'll be adding into it is only a matter of time.

"Elsa," a deep voice calls beside her.

"One moment," she only says distractedly, fingers gripping on her drawing pencil and t-ruler and finishing her task before looking up to black glasses framing almond colored eyes.

Those same eyes gauge her work, widening with every second before a sharp whistle fills the air between them.

"God, I hate how good you are at this…"

Elsa purses her lips in an effort to keep from saying the wrong thing and merely deepens her questioning look. After a moment in which he still maintains a critical eye over her work, she clears her throat and asks rather loudly, "Kareem, what did you need?"

His attention flits back at her, momentarily apologetic before gathering his wits. "My exterior design on the town's houses. Just wanted your take on it before I get into the better stuff—highborn dwellings and such."

She takes the proffered sketch and scans over the details: high stonewalls, vertiginous roof lines, gables, jetties upon mason stonework…and breathes deeply in appreciation for the hard work readily seen behind the lines before giving one, punctuated nod.

"Very good," she adds and hands it back to him. "As for the highborn dwellings—obviously bigger, situated around the town proper not in the middle of the square, and add styles reminiscent to the castle. If you need help with that, let me know."

"Got it."

She hears him scuffle away before turning her attention back to her still blank phone, sighing outwardly at its continued silence.

The circulating air is parched and heated, squeezing droplets of sweat to form from what feels like every exposed pore. She, as well as her classmates, are dressed in the bare minimum since their impromptu meeting last night: tanks and shorts, to ward off the blistering heat. After the lazy plan of speaking with her sister for the remainder of her weekend was thwarted, she figured she might as well be productive and start on their project, a feeling shared by all of her classmates, oddly enough. Out of the five of them, she was the only one who lived alone and had the room for their project to be sprawled as intended, so it was a no brainer where they would be meeting. The fact that all of them had stayed the night didn't faze her either—it seemed to be a majority consensus to have this done as quickly as possible, not because of internal conflict or anything of the sort, but all five of them had been genuinely excited to start it off and hadn't thought much of anything else since.

It pleased her in a way. The projects were chosen based on entries by the students themselves, the groups randomly thereafter: 4 teams of five. Their final is based on Elsa's making which at first had just been a castle, but because of the scale of the project, had blown into a full scale model of a small nation: Arendelle, according to the blonde. Within four weeks, they're to make a three dimensional model of the castle in which Elsa is still tweaking, the town, and the surrounding buildings, all in the style and form of the early nineteenth century, circa 1840.

The squeaking of the computer chair resounds through the otherwise silent room as she pushes it back and gets up, nimble fingers going through platinum locks, pulling a scrunchy out from the disarrayed ponytail, and gathering the strands plastered upon her sweaty neck. Four pairs of eyes look up at her expectantly as she walks towards the empty scale model and glances over the entirety of it, her mind made even as she considers more things to add or subtract while setting her hair back up in the fashion it had been before.

"What's on your mind, bold and fearless leader?"

She can sense the small bit of sarcasm there, but it rolls off her shoulders easily. She looks to the side, towards a tall, blond young man, bright blue eyes speculative as he holds her stare almost challengingly.

Her lips turn up in an outward smirk, catching him unawares. "The flatland…is not going to work out. We need mountains, rolling hills—

"Seriously?"

"When have I ever not been serious?"

"Everyone is doing flatlands…"

"Exactly why I want to deviate from it. _Everyone_ is doing flatlands. As architects, I would hope that we build structures around the land given rather than demolishing everything in favor of an even ground. And if we were to take into consideration the time frame of this project in particular, having flatlands makes zero sense. There's absolutely no way the supposed townsfolk of this time would've been able to scale the land into the convenience of flatness. It would make more sense if they build around."

He sighs into a weary hand. "It's already flat…It doesn't make sense to add geographical details when we don't have to."

"It's because we don't have to that we should."

All of them turn to the speaker, Kareem, who only looks resolute after speaking aloud.

Elsa refrains from rolling her eyes. Right now would be the first dissent amongst the five of them and she has a feeling it won't be the last. While enthusiasm at the overall project is garnered among them, congeniality is a dead last because in the end, this is still a contest for future internship or job offerings. What they'll bring to the table as a last project is the lasting impression made to their potential employers, and it's not something any of them wants to be a bad one.

"Well, let it be known that although I'm called an Ice Queen that I'm no ruling monarch, so let's settle this as Americans," the blonde says in the space of heavy silence. Her words produce an array of emotions: a smirk, a grimace, nonchalance, and stoicism. She files each one made by a different teammate away in her head for future reference. "Let's vote. Flat or environmental. Majority decides. My vote should already be obvious."

"As is mine," Kareem follows right after.

Ben rolls his eyes outwardly, white arms crossing in a defensive posture as he leans back into the wooden chair. "Flat," he says rather loudly, eyeing Hayley and lastly Andrew who both sigh in tandem.

"I'd like to do what the majority of the class isn't already doing," Andrew says with a shrug, pushing his fingers over short, gelled black hair. "Doing a castle's already kind of a big deal. Everyone, as far as I know, is doing futuristic structures: buildings, stadiums—all definitely flatland based. They're not even taking the environment into consideration. We will…That's pretty big. We should do it."

"And with that argument made, I shall agree with environmental," Hayley says rather easily, giving a sickeningly sweet smile to the blond man who just rolls his eyes impetuously at the group.

"You guys are inviting more work that has _nothing_ to do with the architectural part of the project. Can I say that out loud before this whole BS majority decides lie goes into full effect?"

"If you're so against that, then you don't have to do it," Elsa states with finality. "It was my idea, therefore I'll make it. I'll draw out a topographical and physical map and by tonight, get started on building it on the scale model so everyone knows how they should make their structures and where it should be put."

"And if it fucks up where someone wants to put their structure?" Ben retorts, and she has to force her fingers to curl in her palms so she doesn't end up rubbing them tiredly against her face in an outward show of irritation.

"You forget that this is a group project," she says icily. "If one person 'fucks up', everyone 'fucks up'. _I'm_ not one for 'fucking up' a project. I'd rather carry all of you to success than be dragged to failure."

The animosity in her tone is hard to miss, and a small part of her is satisfied of the straightening of backs at what she can only assume is a frosty glare on her part.

She breathes in loudly to settle the fraying nerves in her system, the heat clogging her lungs. It feels like she's choking on air more than getting a reprieve like she wanted, but this entire day is turning to absolute crap…and she's more than already peeved not because of group conflict, but something that's completely out of her hands. She looks at a hanging clock near the kitchen: 10:55, and wishes for time to hurry so that the electrician can finally arrive and her house isn't so stifling and hot; it's turning her absolutely rabid. She fears she might not have a group by the end of the day if this irritation built up from the temperature and not having heard _anything_ of her sister perseveres.

Kareem, who has become a second leader of sorts, gets up from his spot at the dining table and joins her, leaning on the perimeter of their empty model as he gives her a questioning look.

"I'm guessing you already have an inkling of the environmental factors you'd like to add," he says, gathering the attention of the group and an unspoken agreement goes through them, each one getting up from their respective spots and going around the model silently. Four pairs of eyes look over the blue grid and then at her as she glances at every corner, the cogs in her mind turning.

Feeling as if she'd get her point across better, she turns back to her drawing table, pulls off a piece of sketch pad and returns to them with it and a drawing pencil in hand.

She begins explaining as she draws it out, her teammates gathering around her to see everything better. "Firstly, the castle will be upon the water. Because it's the focal point of the project, it only makes sense that it's the biggest portion. It'll make up roughly forty percent of the entire model which is why I'm only sketching a rough outline. I'll need help with the specifics, mainly the chapel, ballroom, throne room, grand staircase, and the courtyard. We've all already decided on an open model so it makes it a bit more complicated, but not within the realm of impossible. Even then, if we're successful at it, it'll be largely beneficial.

"The perimeter of the kingdom is surrounded by an omega shaped battlement." As she says this, she draws it out and leaves an opening near the castle and the end of the battlement. "Arendelle is a port city and this is its only entrance, with the lighthouses as starting and ending points of the kingdom's city limit."

"Will we need an open plan for the lighthouses as well?" Hayley asks, eyes glancing from her sketch and to the empty model as she tries to picture what Elsa wants done.

The blonde merely nods. "I want everything to be an open model, even the townhouses. This is where the environmental factors come in. I envision this kingdom as first a settlement into a fjord and second, against the backdrop of a mountain. The battlements will snake upon the foot of it, townhouses, tudors, and the like near the city center, and further away at the foot of the mountain or near the waters: farmhouses, industrial buildings; and even further all the way to the other side, nobility dwellings. All of us will do a bit of everything. We'll have to build piers, at least twenty different structures to first differentiate class and also places of employment. Circa 1840 means we're limited to the items we can build with, but not what we can make. I say, we do revivalist dragestil structures, but not too much of a viking flair—Norwegian romanticism dreamed fifty years prior to execution. Let's go all the way with it and see what happens."

When she looks up from her sketch, the widened four pairs of eyes upon her is first a bit unsettling, and then, she surmised, to be expected.

It's silent for a full minute, so, with an arched platinum brow, she asks, "Any questions?" which finally wakes them from their sustained reverie.

"The battlement's a great idea." She's surprised to hear Ben to speak first, but gives a thankful nod at his input. "Now, with us doing the environmental factors, a lot of the land will become elevated, obviously."

Elsa nods. "I imagine uneven terraces especially as we get into the mountainside and away from the city proper, but we can build hills to sustain nobility dwellings—build trails and winding roads and make the city limit using the battlement large enough to fit everything we want without compromises. I don't expect us to make a model of the entire mountain, but showing it as an imagined backdrop should be enough."

She's almost surprised at the palpable excitement now running through the group, Andrew breaking away first by muttering something along the lines of starting the lighthouses, Hayley following with excited squeals of the chapel, and Ben grabbing her drawing while tracing his finger along the omega shaped battlements.

Kareem grins at her, almond eyes twinkling in mirth. "There's hope for us yet," he says with an easy smile and turns away, back towards his earlier task.

"Indeed," the blonde says, but mostly to herself, her eyes roaming across the empty model again.

She knows she needs to start working again, but the unbearable heat is making the simple task of thinking tiring. Add to the growing trepidation that there must be something wrong with Anna for the smaller girl to not have contacted her yet…

She glances back at the silent phone laying uselessly at the side of her drawing table.

After her shower she had come back to a still blank phone and laptop, at which time she had turned the volume of both devices to their maximum level so she can hear either one at any part of her home. She would bring the laptop out of her room, but her sister had a knack of surprising her with how…little…she sometimes had on—it's still hot, if not just as hot in New York as it is in LA, and it's not a picture she wants any of her classmates to see. It's not that it's a bad one. On the contrary, it's quite…wonderful. But it's for her eyes only and it'll remain that way indefinitely.

She wishes though, that her thoughts can remain to something so simple as hiding her sister away from the curious eyes of her peers. The gaping chasm in her stomach is widening by the second, consternation eating at her concentration.

Without thought, she walks to her drawing table and redials Anna's number, pressing the phone up against her hot ear and her jaw clamping automatically at the turn of the voicemail. No ring…nothing. Automatic voicemail. The anxiety is enough to churn her stomach into vomiting what was already a small breakfast. Caring little if her classmates' eyes are on her, she strides to her bedroom and kneels before the open laptop sitting at the edge of her bed, her knees meeting the hardwood floor harshly, but she pays little attention to that.

Still offline. No missed calls, video messages—not even a typed one.

Helplessness claws out of her chest, the frustrated growl imbedded in her throat dissolving as her forehead meets the edge of her mattress in a soft thud, eyes clamping shut along with her jaw.

_Where are you, Anna?_

Even the sound of her voice in her head sounds desperate against her ears.

Every second that passes makes the autonomic action of breathing harder, and she knows it has nothing to do with the imminent heat. One thing's for sure…if Anna doesn't call her before noon, nothing's stopping her from making an impromptu trip back to New York.

O—O

The sliding of the balcony door takes her attention only momentarily, Hayley standing at the foot of it with a sheepish smile atop a bright face. Elsa looks back down at her fingertips clamping her cellphone, twirling the device and turning it on and off absentmindedly for the past…she's not sure how long she's been out here actually…All she knows is, her concentration had been pretty much shot since her return from her bedroom and staring at the exterior castle sketches on her drawing table had done nothing more than become blurred at her unblinking stare. After a few minutes of this, she surmised that getting some air (blistering or not) was detrimental to her sanity—it hadn't dawned on her that she's been standing there, still as a bent statue, for more than fifteen minutes, and her classmates, regardless of their silence of her brooding manner, had been just a little worried.

"The guys went out to get some Chinese take-out for lunch. You want anything specific? I can call them back if you want," the brunette asks with her same friendly smile.

The shake of her head is almost imperceptible, but it seems the other girl saw it anyway because she steps forward a second later, leaving the balcony door open behind her and joining the blonde by leaning on the balustrade as well. And Elsa doesn't mean to be anti-social, but this isn't something she wants or needs right now. Maybe some privacy…and for her phone to ring, but apparently the latter is all, but impossible if the last few hours have been any indication.

"You alright?"

And she wants to laugh sardonically and answer that, no…she's far from alright…but a rough sigh is all that expels from her pursed lips.

"Waiting for a call?"

Two pairs of eyes simultaneously fall onto the device clasped against her palm, the continuous silence emanating from it enough for Elsa to want to chuck it into the neighboring building. But of course she doesn't. She's not sure what she'd do if it were to suddenly ring mid-throw—she has the biggest feeling she'd jump off of the balcony after it, and that's just a small indication of how far gone she kind of is.

"I know I don't really know much about the situation," Hayley continues softly beside her. "But if he's not even answering your calls or not even leaving a message…he's not worth it."

The sardonic laughter really does come out of her mouth this time, and the sound that reaches her ears is almost enough to turn the dry chuckle into uncontrollable tears…and that is _definitely_ not something her classmate is expecting. The blonde manages to rail in her faltering emotions though by bending even lower, pressing heavy eyes into her forearm in surmounting frustration and growling into the searing wind.

She's avidly aware that her classmate takes a cautious step away from her after her outburst, but before either of them can say anything about the weird situation they're now imposed in, the door knocks with a resounding bang.

They both glance over their shoulders towards the door, and Elsa couldn't care less if the electrician fixes the AC at this very moment or never. Her day has already been hellish…the trend may as well continue…

"I'm…you want me to get that?"

_I don't care_, is how she wanted to answer, but instead, she merely sighs and nods her head. "It's most likely the electrician," she says in a semi-dead voice, eyes crawling back to her phone again. "Or the guys forgetting something and coming back for it."

The brunette nods and turns away, the pitter pattering of her feet against the wooden cherry planks barely registering in Elsa's head. She wonders briefly how it's possible to feel as if her brain is empty and brimming simultaneously even though this is exactly what she's feeling at this very moment, but she doesn't have enough time to think about it before her name, called in an unsure, shaky manner resounds within her household.

Her eyes roll outwardly.

_How hard is it to open the door and let the person on the other side come in?_

Pretty much set on the if-you-want-something-done-right-do-it-yourself method, she pockets her phone and turns, the sensation of her stomach falling into an abyss and her lungs to lodge in her throat completely simultaneous.

Green-blue eyes lock onto her, and she has to hold on to the bannister or she'd fall—her legs have the sudden consistency of jello.

Heart thudding erratically in her ear, she shuts her eyes close for a moment, wondering if she's so far gone now that she's pretty much hallucinating before opening them again to her little sister walking over to her resolutely.

"Anna?" she manages to breathe out in wonder and perplexity, before the familiar, strong arms are around her waist, the smaller body leaning against hers so she's stuck between the banister and her sister's body.

Her mind toys over the fact that it's akin to how their first kiss had been, only backwards with Anna the one being sandwiched into a part of the building that time, but the thought flies completely out of her brain as the redhead tears through the distance between them.

The kiss is hard, angry, frustrated, and Elsa's mind reels for a moment because _why_ is _Anna_ the one frustrated, when it should be her? She'd been waiting for a call that wouldn't happen! She'd been beside herself with growing consternation since she went to sleep last night! No calls, no messages, _nothing_! Add the small, tiny, _insignificant_ fact that the smaller girl had a guest stay the night as well?!

She growls into the kiss just as sharp teeth begin nipping at her bottom lip, and she responds just as thoroughly, opening her own to invite the indignant mouth so she can fight back the only way possible at this very moment. Her jelly legs reform, hot fingers clawing their way under her shirt and long nails raking at her sides, and her own pushing into messy burnish strands, clutching at the long locks and pulling them out of a haphazard bun thoughtlessly.

Frustration, not just from this day, but in addition to the trying ones that had just elapsed—_nine_ _days—_bubble over, and before she knows it, she's pushing Anna up against the sliding door, the sudden coolness of the glass imminent as the surprised sound emanating from the smaller girl diminishes in her mouth. Unlike the last time, it doesn't stop them. It merely becomes a stumbling block that they bowl over. Her insatiable mind recalls the grainy quality of her laptop; the staticky voice over maxed speakers; the coldness of the flat screen that greets an errant finger or hand that wants to simply touch. And she wants to cry…simply because this is real, and Anna's here, and she doesn't have to pretend to be strong or that she's okay with the distance or that the four weeks remaining (a whole month!) isn't very long at all…

The shuddering moan that comes from her mouth is loud, bounces in the shared air between them as the redhead deviates, her mouth lowering, nipping at exposed skin as she goes along, licking after as if to apologize for the harshness. Elsa stops being aware of much of anything other than the bright spots exploding like fireworks in her tightly shut lids. She lets her sense of touch guide everything, from the satiny lips traveling from her mouth to her chin, lower still to the dip of her under jaw (she moves her head up to accommodate), tongue lapping salty dermis, and stops abruptly, right at her jugular.

The blood pounding in her ears is in tandem to the ache in her lower belly, her fingers clamping onto burnish strands painfully as the unrelenting mouth clamps, bites, sucks, and laps onto her neck. It's a good minute more before she's able to open heat laden eyes towards the ceiling of the balcony above her own, breaths coming in short pants out of her open mouth as Anna finally, mercifully, draws back and rests her forehead on the blonde's unsteady shoulder.

She has to strain her ears to hear at first because the pronounced tachycardia's the only thing she can hear, but finally she does, and it sends her into renewed confusion.

_"__Mine."_

_Who else's?_ she wants to ask. Instead, she pulls her hands back, retreats from burnish copper strands and cups the smaller girl's face, guiding her so that they're finally face to face. She reads the sadness and worry laced within green-blues that dart with her own, and all she wants to do is erase the unease so easily shown that it sends a painful lance through her still erratic heart.

"Yours, sunflower," she says softly, touching her forehead with her sister's before leaning in for another kiss, the second one softer, slower, and filled with deep understanding instead of frustrated desperation. The thought crosses through Elsa's mind that Anna tastes of sunshine, warmth, and intoxication—things her fogged mind wasn't able to bring up earlier, but now rings in such clarity she'll know she'll miss this second most only to holding the smaller girl in her arms. When she opens her eyes and locks with turquoise orbs again, she finally sees the glow in the other girl's countenance that she had been wanting to see since she walked through the balcony door, and the giggle that bubbles from her chest at seeing the pronounced happiness increases ten fold.

The arms around her waist tighten just as she encases the redhead tightly in her arms, her nose nuzzling a hot forehead and sweet smelling hair that she can't help but place small pecks along the exposed hairline.

"I miss you so much," Anna grumbles, the admission muffled from beneath her as the other girl attempts to dive deeper into their embrace—seemingly wanting to assimilate herself so that they can be one entity instead of two separate beings.

"Oh Anna," she calls, unable to hide the desperation in her tone. She presses a hard kiss atop a wrinkled forehead. "I miss you too…" The entire day's events wash over her and she can't help the hard sigh and clamping of her jaw as she pulls back so she can see the smaller girl's face again.

She can see that Anna's taken aback by the hardness of her countenance—the surface anger boiling so obviously that it's hard not to notice. Before she can open her mouth to express just how irate she is of this whole situation, because seriously it didn't have to be this way, her expression is mimicked to a tee by the younger girl in her arms, and that definitely surprises her enough to pull back what she's about to say so her sister can say her piece.

"Who's the girl?"

Definitely not what she's expecting…

Speaking of…

The hot blush rides through her cheeks quick and furious. She's completely forgotten about her classmate, and for a second her eyes dart away from hardened green-blues up to her apartment, a part of her relieved to see it empty, but knowing the brunette had seen enough—more than any of her other peers had ever seen of her, and she's not sure how to feel about that. Her train of thought is cut abruptly as hot fingers pull her attention downwards, back towards an incensed visage, and she sees the tick of a clamped jaw and pursed lips before the question is raised between them in another low mutter.

"Who's the _girl_?"

Elsa sighs loudly, arms coming around her sister's waist and pulls her closer, placing a small kiss on an upturned cheek.

_I could ask you the same thing…_her mind counters quite easily, but pushes that poisonous thought aside. After all, Anna's here with her—wants her, and not there, entertaining some stranger, and that has to mean _something_.

"A classmate," she murmurs against smooth skin, her nose skimming over the sweet, familiar smell she had missed and her mind had manufactured within the last couple of weeks. "If you would've just called me," she continues softly, eyes closing as her mouth trails small pecks to the shell of the other girl's ear causing a shiver to wrack against the smaller body on hers, "I would've told you that I'm working on a project at home with four other people, one of them being a girl, and if you want me to kick them out to speak with you, I would without second thought."

Anna's grumble moan combination against her ear is heady, and before she's quite aware of it, she's gathering the smaller girl closer to her again, lips finding satiny flesh, smelling and tasting hints of strawberries. She wants nothing more than to take the two of them to her bedroom and begin the series of explorations she'd been dreaming of since the conception of this…relationship, but she knows there's still so much to talk about and more than that…

Several loud knocks echo through her apartment, but it falls on deaf ears. The blonde hears it okay, but it feels like it's coming from the other end of a long tunnel. All of her concentration is on Anna, at curvaceous hips upon her fingers, a willing body melding over her own, and more importantly at still frustrated lips fighting for dominance. She's barely able to hold in her self-control and even more-so when a thigh is inserted between her legs, summoning a half moan, half berate to end what's surely going to go farther than what either of them is ready for.

Glazed eyes stare back at her, the air between them thin and filled with shared short gasps. The blonde steadies herself by removing her curled fingers from the other's smooth waist and palming the cold glass in front of her, pushing herself off until there's at least a foot of space between them.

The knocks resound again, louder, more persistent, and she gives a small apologetic look to the smaller girl before grasping a warm hand and ghosting her lips over the other's knuckles. She receives a shy smile and for her, that's more than enough—a small promise that they'll come back to this. God knows, all she wants to do now is to kick everyone out and just spend the entire day in reacquaintance to this small wonder that is her sister.

"You might…want to put on something with a high collar…"

Exasperated laughter escapes from her mouth, her fingers ghosting over her neck at what she supposes is an angry, red mark currently making its home there. Anna looks down sheepishly at the floor beneath them, looking endearingly like a scolded child.

"Hmm," she sounds out. "But then your dominance isn't asserted very well if people aren't knowledgeable that I'm yours."

A part of her is joking, of course, but when she sees the spark in the other girl's eyes—the seriousness peeking from her visage, she decides, to hell with it, and throws caution in the wind.

She doubts her female classmate's one to skimp out on details at what she's seen anyway…Might as well go the whole nine yards…

They step back inside the heated confines of her condo, sweaty palms clasped in a death grip lock as Elsa leads the two of them to the front door, opening it as nonchalantly as possible to her four peers and, who could only be, Doug from Central Heating.

Resolutely ignoring the plethora of emotions from her classmates because she just doesn't want to deal with that right now (does she have to anyway?), the blonde eyes the electrician who gives her a small nod.

"Miss Andersen?"

Her eyes narrow somewhat as she sees his glance travel to her face first, then her neck, fighting the strong urge to cover the blistering mark, but of course not giving anyone the satisfaction of doing so. You reap what you sow, after all.

"Yes, come in," she merely answers, forcing his attention back at her and an uncomfortable clearing of his throat.

"Kind of a bad time of the year to have your AC break, eh?"

"Yes," she merely grunts, walking back into the house still hand in hand with Anna, and grabbing a familiar knapsack from against the wall; it's certainly much heavier than she expected. "The breaker is in the hallway closet," she says, pointing to the direction of the closet as they pass by. "The main AC is in the living room, behind the TV." She turns to the nearly balding man as he sets his toolbox on the ground carefully, beetle eyes surveying the room. "Is there anything else you need to know?"

"Nope," he says with an easy shake of the head, adamant on not looking at either of them. "Should take maybe thirty minutes. Hopefully less."

"Fine."

She eyes her classmates as they make their way to the dining room table, Ben and Andrew holding large paper bags and the smells of lunch trailing them. Apparently they're as resolute in ignoring the situation as much as she is, so she follows their lead, hoping for the silence to continue for the better part of this final project.

She wonders if it's wishful thinking for this to remain here and not the talk of her class come Monday. It wouldn't be so hard to keep it to themselves…right?

The clearing of her throat gathers their attention, Ben smirking, Kareem and Andrew attentive, and Hayley with a wide grin, four pairs of eyes studiously darting between her, her neck, and her sister. She feels a bit naked standing before them in this manner, but the strong hand upon her own acts as her gravitational pull to keep herself tethered and grounded.

"Guys, Anna. Anna, that's Kareem, Andrew, Ben, and…you probably remember Hayley."

"Hello."

Elsa wonders momentarily how…natural Anna can sound in these situations. If this were reversed and it was her in the smaller girl's shoes, she has the faintest feeling she wouldn't be able to handle it…_any of it._ And yet, here's her sister, grinning from ear to ear at a late introduction that should be, for all intents and purposes, an awkward encounter. There's no doubt in her mind now, judging by the looks being thrown their way, that Hayley had explained the goings on in the house to the boys. Just as well, she knows that Anna also knows this small fact, but the smaller girl acts unaffected, as if this happens daily, which makes it easier for her classmates to act accordingly,

"Sorry if I interrupted something by the way," the redhead says, still with a forward smile that she graces upon her peers.

"No big," Ben answers, his smirk more pronounced as his eyes shift from her sister back to her. "We're about to have lunch. Wanna join?"

"I'll pass, actually."

Anna turns to her, the grip on their handhold tightening before she draws back and takes the knapsack from the blonde's grasp. "I'm kind of tired," she says quietly between them and only now, that the initial excitement at finally seeing the other girl again is wearing off, does Elsa note her hoarse voice and sluggish form.

The taller girl sighs at the pronounced bags noticeable under bright turquoise eyes, her thumb coming up absentmindedly in an attempt to rub it off. "Didn't get any sleep?"

The redhead shakes her head, but still manages to grin widely. "I thought I could sleep in the plane, but that was just dumb speculation. How long…do you think you'll be?"

And suddenly, it's just them again, sharing the same space, everyone, regardless of the open spectating, shoved carelessly in the back burner. Her eyes flit over at the hanging clock, noting that it's only five after noon and makes up her mind on a rather easy decision. Knowing that her sister will most likely need at least a few insisted hours of rest, she states, "Five. Possibly earlier, but that's up to you."

Anna grins, shortening the distance between them with a simple peck on the lips before turning into the hallway housing a few openings.

"Second door to the right," Elsa calls after her, willing her mind to stop putting an emphasis on the tingling upon her lips as she watches the smaller girl disappear in her bedroom.

When she turns back, she's not surprised to see her classmates in utmost concentration at preparing what will be lunch, and she sighs outwardly to get their attention so this can be over and done with. Stepping up to the head portion of the table, she gives a thankful nod as she's given a paper plate, pulls the chair out, and sits down.

Beating around the bush is not an option.

"What can I do so this isn't leaked to the class?"

Ben is the only one to laugh brashly, blue eyes gauging her as his smirk becomes even more pronounced. "You really think people will care if you bat for the other team?"

"I don't care if people know about my preferences," she says resolutely. "I care that it's my business and none of yours, and as such it should be something kept private if I want it to be kept private."

"Then it will be."

She glances at Kareem who ends up eyeing everyone else at the table. "This doesn't leave this house," he says in his deep timbre voice, zero room for argument laced in his tone. "People have private lives. I'm sure everyone's in a general understanding that we want whatever that happens in school versus what we do out of it, separated."

"Here, here," Hayley says with a nod and smile, Andrew shrugging after her and shoving chow mein in his mouth wordlessly.

"Ben?"

"Why am I always the targeted bad guy?" the blond asks incredulously as he spears a few barbecued pork into his plate.

"You're the only one making this into a bigger deal than it is," Kareem retorts. "Yay, Elsa has a girlfriend. So what? It has no bearing on the project or our grades. It certainly hasn't diminished her standings in class. What it is, is moot information. It's useless and unimportant and, again, none of our business. Why is it a big deal to you?"

"It's not…"

"Well there's a bold-faced lie if I ever saw one…"

"We've been sharing a class with each other for years," Andrew speaks up after a heavy swallowful of food. "I don't know about everyone, but for me, it's interesting. Sorry Elsa, but…you're kind of…hmm…what's the word? Like…a trifecta girl."

Platinum brows stitch at her Vietnamese classmate's choice of word, but doesn't stop him in favor of, hopefully, a good explanation.

"First off, you're hot—oh please, everyone knows it." He rolls his eyes at Ben who looks like he's about to disagree, but shuts his mouth as Hayley again nods resignedly from her seat, food piling in her plate as they all listen attentive to the Asian boy. Elsa remains silent, but speculative, wondering what direction this is heading to. "You're smart. I mean…you're the _youngest_ in the class. All the professors have been putting that over everyone's heads like we're responsible for it or that we can contain it or that we can become _better_ just because we're a year or so older. Lastly, you're not a jerk about it. You can flaunt it all you want, but you don't. You get these accolades, but it rolls off your shoulders. People say that you're a snob, but they're not really right…I mean, no one's ever seen you actually be smug from being the only one with a perfect grade at the end of a class or whatever. So in the end, it's just…envy. Simple envy. I'm sure you're aware of that. I'm sure you're aware that, that's where…the name comes from."

"Stupid name…" Kareem mutters under his breath, shoving some fried rice in his mouth as he motions for her to start getting some food.

She does so, even though hunger is the last thing in her mind, the eye-opening words of her peers first and foremost.

"People still act like we're in high school with all the name calling and whatnot, but it is what it is," Andrew continues, chewing on his food and pausing momentarily in mid-thought. "But I'll say it if no one does…It's a big deal because it's a perceived weakness. For all the years everyone in this room has known you, there's never been a dent to your outward persona. I can safely say that _everyone, _yes Kareem, even you, have thought along the lines of 'this girl isn't normal' or 'this girl isn't _human_' hence, the stupid title. Ice Queen. It's juvenile and stupid and only made because of envy. Made because if they can't find a weakness, they might as well exploit your strengths.

"Now I'm gonna take the high road here and admit it—I'm one of them. When this group was formed, I wanted out because I thought no one would be able to work with you—you're too perfect…and yes, there is such a thing. But then we're showed your work, and your views, and ideas, and the fact that you don't shoot our ideas down, and now…this. A topping on the proverbial cake." He smiles and shrugs carelessly. "You're human. That's what it shows me, and that's why to Ben, it's kind of a big deal. This is new and interesting, and definitely not something we would think of ever happening, least of all in open view.

"Elsa Andersen has a weakness. It's no cause for celebration, but it is worthy of top news…in our small circle anyway."

She lets the explanation assimilate in her head, irises narrowing at the noodles clamped on a pair of wooden chopsticks gripped in her hand.

"That's silly."

Ben snickers, chuckles erupting from the other three at her small statement.

Andrew just gives her a smile. "As I said, it is what it is."

She sighs loudly, a sardonic smile gracing her features. "While I can understand the envy and name calling, I don't see how Anna could be a perceived weakness," she says and gives a thoughtless shrug as well. "As far as I can see she acts as a buffer for both leaning more towards a strength."

Silence greets her words for a few moments, followed by a sharp whistle from her left side.

Ben grins at her almost wickedly. "Are you sure? 'Cuz being whipped is definitely a weakness."

Hayley and Andrew laugh at his forward statement and because she can see the playfulness in his stalwart eyes, she manages to release a chuckle as well, finally able to push some food in her mouth from what seems to be the ending of a winded, but eye-opening conversation.

"Did you know there was a running bet on your preference?"

The ending of their meal apparently couldn't come soon enough when the question is laid bare before her, and it's a good thing she didn't have anything in her mouth because it was liable to be spat out from sheer incredulity.

"I still can't believe the majority of our classmates thought you were asexual…_No one's_ asexual…" Hayley says, putting her two cents in.

"Well a lot of the guys thought you were too hot to be gay," Andrew chimes in. "Which I don't get, 'cuz there's zero correlation between the two."

"I thought you were too hot to just bat for one team," Ben states loudly, wiping his clean shaven mouth with a napkin thoroughly. "But then…you remember, right?"

Oh, does she…

"I think everyone remembers Ben…" Hayley says, just as Elsa releases a huge sigh. "You need to get over it."

"Hey, I _am_ over it, thank you very much. But that's why I changed my mind from her being bisexual to straight out lesbian, okay?"

"Why, 'cuz your charms didn't work on her?"

"Exactly why!"

"You're such a douche…"

"Miss Andersen?" The call is in tandem to an electrical hum, and a second later she can feel the cool air pushing its way out of the ventilation shafts.

"Oh, I'ver never been more glad of a segue…" she says softly, causing laughter to produce from her peers.

She gets up and gives a strained smile at the electrician as he produces a paper for her to sign.

"You'll receive the bill in three to five days," he says unnecessarily causing her to nod as she signs on the dotted line.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure. I'll see myself out."

The door to the condo closes just as they get done trashing the garbage they've accumulated from lunch, a group effort that doesn't take very long to finish.

"Well, we have four and a half hours to get things done before we're forced out for the day," Kareem says with a quick glance at his wristwatch. Elsa smiles wryly at the forward statement, but doesn't refute it. "Might as well make the most of it."

And they actually do.

It comes as a mild surprise to the blonde how after their lunch talk revelation that all four of her classmates become a bit more…open. She knows nothing in herself has changed, but maybe the need to air out grievances and expectations had affected her peers more than she thought was possible. Even Ben had been more forthcoming of ideas and less defensive of critiques. Lastly, it would seem the cooling of the once harsh air has also diminished short fuses and by the time a couple of hours has elapsed, she can say that she's…not enjoying herself per se, but definitely in higher spirits than she was several hours back. Of course that's also attributed to the sleeping figure currently curled up in her bed—she wasn't quite aware of it, but she wasn't the best person to hold a conversation with since the surmounting anxiety of her sister's sudden disappearance started at breakfast's end.

It's a blessing and a curse that they get to be pretty busy after being given an exact timeframe to work. In between working with Hayley to finalize the details on certain portions of the castle and checking everyone's progress from time to time, she's not able to make the thirty feet trek to her bedroom to visit the slumbering figure of her sister. It's not to say it doesn't cross her mind to do so—within the timeframe of every five minutes the strong urge to get up and go to her bedroom without preamble crosses her mind thirty times…at least. But she redoubles her efforts after every thought passes only because she has the biggest inkling that Anna had been up the whole day with minimal rest in the airplane ride over and going into the bedroom now would certainly lessen the amount of sleep the smaller girl could still be getting.

Stuck in her thoughts, the soft question sent her way didn't register fast enough, allowing her to only hear the very end.

"…together?"

She looks up from her drawing table and over at the brunette who looks at her expectantly, a not so very eloquent, "Huh?" passing through her lips.

The other girl chuckles, but repeats herself nonetheless. "You and Anna…how long have you two been together?"

She can feel her eyes widening at the sudden question, her brain wracking for a legitimate answer. Because, seriously, how does she answer that? Forever? A couple of weeks? Today? She's not even sure…

She's loved Anna for what feels like forever, and the realization that they're…something now…hasn't fully hit her. A small part of her is still doubtful of all of it—a dream too good to come true for someone so wretched like her. Another part is afraid of the future, the unexpectedness and frightening reality that her present happiness will destroy her sister's life. And the anxiety and consternation from these thoughts plague her—a potent, confusing combination of joy and worry, bliss and woe—never ending and always recycling.

"Does it matter?"

Again, she doesn't mean to come off as anti-social, but she can see how her stern words come across as, and judging by the sudden apologetic and foot-in-the-mouth expression shown by her classmate's retreating visage, she's hit the proverbial nail in the head. She really wants to smack herself in the forehead sometimes.

"We've known each other since we were small."

The familiar voice races her heart into an F-1 race, her attention as well as her peers' swerving to Anna who looks absolutely perfect even in (or maybe because of) casual clothes: her Sci-Arc shirt and dark, cotton shorts. The playful smirk on the freckled visage stutters her breaths, her lungs begging for reprieve in which she allows with a deep, steadying breath that only pulls the smile even higher. Looking at the time: just barely past four, her mouth sets in an inadvertent line of worry as the smaller girl walks over to her, bending low into her seat and finding purchase on her jawline with smooth fingers before leaning down and claiming her mouth unabashedly.

Elsa tries to make a mental note that Anna's the type that couldn't care less for social convention and PDAs, but fails miserably—her electrical synapses short-circuit and she only has enough brain function available to follow the caresses of a soft searching tongue, silky, pliable lips, and playful nips from even teeth. She's able to swallow the impending moan back into her throat, but barely, thankful for small favors as the smaller girl retreats, but not before hearing a small cackle erupt from her mouth.

She narrows her eyes at an impetuous, unapologetic face, not missing the clearing of an uncomfortable throat from a nearby female classmate and unable to look at any of them in the face for at least a full minute.

"Guess that's our cue to jet," Kareem states across the room, and to the surprise of everyone, most of all Elsa, Anna shakes her head rather vigorously in disagreement.

"Don't mind me," the redhead says simply, walking towards the kitchen in, no doubt, search for something to eat.

Elsa stands up from her spot and walks over to the smaller girl, deviating to the kitchen cupboards and producing a plate as well as utensils for her. "There's still some Chinese take-out from earlier. If you'd like something else…"

She trails off the other option at the simple shake of the head and a brilliant, beautiful smile, the redhead taking her proffered items graciously. "Thanks Elsa, but you're needed. As I said, don't mind me."

_Yes, of course_, her mind berates. _Travel a few thousand miles and hours to see me and I won't mind you at all…_

Even the sarcasm sounds thick in her head, but she nods anyway, watches the smaller girl momentarily before gathering a deep breath and heading back to her drawing table. It's safe to say that her concentration—whatever was left of it to begin with—is shot at the arrival of her sister. She tries though, vainly, to keep working, and it works somewhat because Anna, surprisingly enough, maintains a safe distance from her, green-blue eyes scouring over the model grid taking up the majority of her living room while shoveling food thoughtlessly into her mouth. Elsa watches from her peripherals, inadvertently positioning herself to be able to see the redhead while maintaining inattentive eyes at her own sketch.

"Elsa, when do you think you'll be done with the environmental touch ups?" Kareem asks, eyes fixated on his work.

"I'll make the maps by Monday, make copies, and give them to everyone so we have a focal starting point," the blonde answers distractedly, returning to her work. "As for the scale model, hopefully by the middle of the week. I'll have to buy the items, glue them together, paint…it'll be a bit artsy…not exactly my forte."

"It's a good thing we're architects then, right?" Ben retorts with a wide smirk. "Wow them with the scale models instead of the background?"

"I'd like to wow them with everything…if that's at all possible."

"We can't all be perfectionists."

"Yes, but we can strive to be." She locks eyes with observant green-blues momentarily before dragging her attention back to her drawing. "As I said earlier, don't mind yourself with the changes in the land. We'll figure out a way to get everything in, in a legitimate fashion. Draw your buildings and make them perfect. I would assume that by Friday of next week, we'll begin making and attaching the scale models…just as soon as the land formation is made."

"Aye, aye, captain."

Again she lets the sarcasm roll off of her shoulders, and for a little while, even though Anna maintains an overbearing presence in the room, she's able to get some of her work done.

O—O

"Thanks again for letting us stay here last night, Elsa."

The blonde shakes her head, a serious smile splaying on her visage. "Sorry for the AC, or lack thereof. If time permits, we should be able to meet up numerous times this week to get a move on with the project. I don't foresee any problems we can't all solve through and together."

Kareem smiles widely and nods, almond eyes darting behind her. "Nice meeting you Anna. Hopefully not the last time…and maybe when we're less than occupied."

The redhead shares an easy smile. "Sure thing."

Elsa gives the darker man another congenial nod before he turns away, closing the door after him and turning to a grinning redhead as soon as her index finger and thumb secure the lock on the door.

"Alone at last," Anna says rather impishly, causing a loud sigh to erupt from her chest.

"Which is a good thing because we really need to talk," the blonde says pointedly, narrowing her eyes at the easy pout it produces from the smaller girl.

"We don't have to talk…" the redhead mumbles.

She walks towards the smaller girl, fingers catching shapely hips before surprising her altogether and lifting her from the back of her thighs, using the wall as leverage to maintain a firm grip until Anna's legs are securely fastened on her waist and freckly arms clasped over her shoulders. The little surprised 'eep' that comes out of the redhead's mouth is adorable, and when she looks up, it's easy to lose herself in sparkling turquoise eyes, staring at her in indiscreet adoration.

"I'm heavy," is the small, semi-indignant statement that she just chuckles through.

Elsa merely pushes her higher, the direct heat from the smaller girl's inner thighs smothered against her stomach doing peculiar things in her brain. "Then, let's sit us down before my legs turn into jelly, shall we?" The gravelly and huskiness in her voice is completely inadvertent, but it comes out that way regardless, and before she's quite aware of it, heated lips are latched again on her own, need and desire clawing at the bottom of her belly flaring in tandem to the swirl of tongues and bruising lips.

A small part of her brain is berating her, telling her that maybe carrying her sister to a place where they can talk instead of simply guiding her there was a bad idea. Securing on to this train of thought, she breaks away from the searing kiss and buries her head upon a smooth neck, laughing at the frustrated groan that echoes in her ears.

"We really do need to talk Anna," she says between bated breaths while her traitorous body begins nipping at the exposed skin, her lips latching on a frenetic heartbeat and begins sucking as she finds purchase. And if she thought her libido could not get any higher, she hears her name in that familiar voice—guttural and wanton, repeated over and over as if in prayer, and it breaks what little resolve she has over the entire matter.

She's not entirely sure how they get to her bedroom. What she's completely aware of is how beautiful Anna looks splayed over her bed, cascading locks of hair haloing a beautiful flushed face and glazed green-blue eyes staring up at her absolute trust. Fleshy lips are open mid-way, shallow breaths inhaled and exhaled and an angry red mark visible upon her still palpitating jugular.

Elsa has never seen anything or anyone more beautiful in her life.

The bed creaks silently as the blonde moves atop her, one knee coming across a hip and another inches from the apex between heated inner thighs. Anna's hands come up between them only for her to catch pale wrists in a death-grip hold, barring any movement as she locks them atop the smaller girl's head and leaning forward ever so slightly so that her leg finally makes contact with sweet heat. The moan that passes from semi-opened lips is intoxicating, and she breathes it in, swallows until it dissolves in her mouth and a strong, sweet tongue replaces it, wrestles for dominance with her own.

Time is marked by both slow motion and fast forward, its passing only noticeable by the surmounting ache filling the bottom of her belly.

In the recess of her mind, a weak reminder of wanting to talk tries to echo through, but the fog is already so heavy it's practically impossible to lift herself out of it. Through sheer force of willpower, she's able to find the self-control needed to retreat. Not so fast that it sends the wrong signals, but slowly, deliberately. First, her thigh away from now gyrating hips and then her hands, unclasping small wrists.

Her hair falls like a curtain between them, eyes locked on still tightly shut lids as she manages to stay atop the smaller girl without touching any part of her.

Green-blue eyes open, glazed and semi-disappointment coating the dilated pupils and a sweet tongue darting out to rewet bruised lips.

"Let me guess," the redhead says between gulps of air. "We need to talk?"

Elsa's face splits into an exasperated smile, but she nods, nonetheless. "Yes, sunflower, we do." And she's not surprised at how winded she sounds either, as if she just ran a marathon and had been given no reprieve since.

The blonde tumbles onto her back, the cool sheets on her exposed skin feeling like being drenched in a waterfall, and she's thankful for it because it helps to clear her still foggy mind. Anna follows her willingly, the smaller girl getting up, albeit slowly, and depositing herself atop the blonde, straddling and sitting on her lower stomach and using her upturned knees as back support. Strong fingers flex through her own until their clasped atop her belly, green-blue eyes alert, locked with hers, and waiting for her to begin.

And now that they're here…she's kind of at a loss on exactly where to start…One question bounces in her mind in almost perpetual agony.

"How do you feel? About this? About…_me_?"

The soft, shy smile that flitters on her sister's face quickens her heart rate, excitement bubbling in her chest at the adoration so easily shown by the other's beautiful countenance.

"I love you," she says simply and with an added shrug. Not the careless kind, but the one that isn't able to add more because there's just too much to say. But Elsa waits patiently while the redhead looks up at the ceiling to gather her thoughts and words silently…carefully. "When you confessed," the smaller girl starts, "I don't think it really dawned on me. I didn't treat it as a normal confession, just something that needed to be said so I could understand what mom and dad were trying to say. To be honest, I…I didn't really even think about it even after you said it. It was just…something that was.

"But then I started mulling over it. The first consideration was you. You told me the deepest, darkest thing about yourself and even after, you wanted to hide it. You didn't expect a thing from me and even said so out loud, but Elsa…when you look at me…it's like the past five years didn't happen. There's so much adoration and understanding and love—so much emotion that it's hard not to notice. And _still,_ you do your best to hide it…for me. So it's not awkward for me or so I won't have to make any hard decisions that I don't have to make. Christ, you went into self-imposed exile as a bitter form of self punishment just so I won't be _tainted…_"

A freckly arm comes up, smooth fingers carding through her hair as blue-green eyes twinkle in a combination of mirth and affection. "I only ever want to make you happy…so being with you decides that by itself." Anna smiles as her knuckles graze longingly through high cheekbones. "Second consideration…was me," she continues, inhaling a deep breath as she does so. "The last couple of weeks…I've been doing a little soul searching—finding myself amidst homework and finals and friends and missing you. My past flames indicate that I want someone like you, but it didn't have to mean I wanted _you._ I kind of wanted to figure that out before meeting up with you again, so I can have a definitive answer that won't break the bond that we've already began building…Then, the airport happened…"

Elsa chuckles as white even teeth graze a bottom lip roughly.

"Nothing was planned, I wanted you to stay, and…I guess the biggest part of me that thought that _this…_you and me…was plausible, wanted definitive proof. I wanted to see how my body would react, because honestly kissing you had never entered my mind until a few days prior and…I was curious." Anna lessens the distance between them, her arms coming around Elsa's neck and scooting closer until a couple inches separate their nose. "Not a single part of me regrets kissing you. _None._"

And as if to prove her point, she closes in on the remaining inches, steady breaths fanning the blonde's face as their mouths meet in another dance.

The open admission has Elsa's heart close to bursting, and she can only hold on to the fabric of the smaller girl's shirt as the soft caresses, pecks, slides of plaint mouths come together and eventually drift apart.

Anna's eyes stare resolutely at her collarbone, hands drifting down until they're resting on her shoulders. "You said I'm not tied to you." Green-blue eyes lock with hers, helpless, but resigned, her lips quirking into a vulnerable smile. "I am…Even if you end up not wanting me, I'm tied to you. I…_need_ you. These last couple of weeks that I wasn't with you cemented that. Drove the point home so glaringly that…seeing some stranger in the other side of your webcam prompted an impromptu trip…just so I can claim what's rightfully mine."

It's hard to breathe let alone speak with the resounding lump lodged in her throat so the blonde does the next best thing and gathers the redhead in her arms tightly, the embrace shared wholeheartedly by the smaller girl.

Her mind is in constant jubilation and confusion, all of the words uttered by her sister passing in relative ease in her still jumbled mind. One thing's for sure…

"I could never not want you."

The freckled arms around her merely tighten their hold—enough to hurt, but it really is the sweetest kind of pain. She licks her lips before finding the smaller girl's again and a small tumble later, they're at their original position, Anna looking up at her with open, trustful eyes full of devotion, and all Elsa wants is to show the other girl how she makes her _feel. _

She keeps herself propped up by her elbows, moving her thighs so that the smaller girl's alabaster legs are splayed on either side of her waist and the pooling of heat is directly touching the growing swirl in the pit of her belly.

Leaning forward, she locks eyes with sparkling green-blues before her words tumble around them.

"Are you sure?"

She's barely able to finish it before she's interrupted in the sweetest way. Words leave her. Leaves both of them. Becomes useless because action always spoke louder anyway.

**AN: I kinda like to toy between that gray line of rated T to M…it's a bit fun. Although in retrospect because of all the incestual overtones, I've probably already crossed the line by making them kiss anyway which…ehh…w/e. So uhh hey…welcome to another chapter in which nothing much happens, although the cementing of their relationship and status I guess could be considered something. The word count is much lower this chappy…sorry about that. Hopefully next chapter comes out to be more…just more. MOAR. 'Til next time. **

**actionpotential: Stop being so excited! There's nothing that merits excitement!**

**FrozenFanatic: If this chapter is any indication to Elsa and Anna's current relationship, I should hope that none of my readers think one is ever cheating on the other…else all the character development from the last 9 chapters have been for naught! And yes, of course Anna's going to fly to her…she did it before without knowing the address so nothing's really stopping her now that she does :D**

**FreelancBurn: I'm actually kinda curious, and I wasn't able to get enough research material for wakes to get a ballpark number, but since you seem knowledgable of them, how much would it actually be? I mean…I kind of put into account that it's only for several hours (3-9), a catering service for an upwards of maybe 150 people in that timeframe so possibly thirty people per given time and thought 8 to 10k sounds…enough…especially because, really, it's just the hiring of a wait staff and the cooking of hors d'oeuvres. So yeah, please let me know…for future reference. As for the cooking scene, I never add salt after it's already boiling. A crazy amount before, yes, but I didn't realize doing it after was a thing actually…And…if it makes you any happier, they totally used proper stainless steel (although considering this is Anna's dingy studio, a Teflon pan sounds about right). **

**DevotedFan: I swear, people's versions of a happy ending has skewed! Mine has stayed pretty traditional and with the ending of this chapter, I don't know if people are still questioning it or just like to be pessimists. An ending in which they're not together IS NOT A HAPPY ENDING, at least not in my book, but it doesn't mean that it'll be smooth sailing. My stories rarely are…The time when they finally get together…something's always inevitably goes wrong…and it's only a matter of the ship finding out a way to get through it without sinking. :D Look forward to it, and thank you for the lovely review and comments.**

**vladivostok: Hahahaha, the mention of food in my stories have a lot of bearing on what I'm craving…I think. I made chapter 8 a couple weeks after Hawaii where they have like…ahi poke and unagi don ****_everywhere_**** and…yeah…food is very distracting…Elsa withdrawals are not to be taken lightly, as Anna is now finding out quite harshly. Unfortunately, with her current frame of mind, I don't think anything would've sufficed other than actually going to Elsa and claiming territory. And no, Elsa's not late to the gate, and certainly didn't pull whatever it is that you despise the most. This is Elsa after all…perfect although a bit manic-depressant. **

**NightLuck: Of course she is! **

**Tripower: Duuuude, I was wondering who you were! I only mentioned okayu once! And I'm like who is this anon who's read FwB and remembered ****_okayu _****of all things? Welp…that answers my question. Don't die…liiive! **

**Icy-Windbreeze: Anna's going there to claim what's hers! Primitive? Yes. Effective? Hell yes. **

**Immi: As the author, I'm rarely astounded by insight given to me by readers on something I inevitably made. So when you typed 'So they both ended up with girls in their homes for the night' I kinda went…OMG…they DID…as if I wasn't the one to write it…because it was a bit inadvertent. So thank you for that! They both need some good head bopping. Hopefully after this chappy, they're more or less in the same page. **

**SakuraAyanami: When I made the chapter I was resolute in making the airport scene last, only because I think a lot of people were expecting it to be at the beginning. And yay, here's an e-cookie for speculating a finals team project! :D It's safe to say that Anna is in this all the way now—no turning back mode. Let's see what happens now that this block is inevitably surpassed. **

**Volchise: Well I hope all the semi-fluff and semi-smut in this chapter also produces a body clench…is that a good thing? It sounds kinda…painful.**

**motherofdragons: Khaleesi (sorry I had to) The heartaches come with the fandom! I just write what I inevitably picture them doing and they like the angst so there it is. **

**CanITellUSmThin: You know…in my head, these two can't seem to take their hands off each other. I don't know if that's influence from a smutty fandom or what…but there's a boatload of sexual tension that needs addressing. They somewhat address it here…we'll see if they address it more…haha. **

**Kurrent: First and foremost, I apologize for the lack of sleep and the insomnia my fic has caused you. Thank you for sharing the possible theoretical scenarios (they made nice little one-shots in my head) and Elsa ****_almost_**** flew back to New York. I think if she didn't have her classmates in her house, she would've jetted when she woke up and still had no message from Anna. I'm glad though, that you (and others) ruled cheating entirely out of the equation. It means I'm doing something right with the character development at the very least…**

**IronShounen: It was totally a misunderstanding! Don't strangle Elsa…she's as stuck in the clouds just as much as Anna is. **

**iwantaparrot1: :O I want to get paid in real life so I can update tomorrow too! Haha seriously, the amount of time this fic takes in my life is…jarring. No special project can distract Anna from who you know now as Hayley (tank top and short, shorts girl), and the fact that they're both in the same page now is…it's kind of a relief. We can get over that phase and go to something else…yay!**

**Misiu: O.O THIRD? I didn't realize there were so many feels for so much rereads! The chick was definitely still at the apartment after a five hour plane ride! **

**McHaudegen: I think I like to toy with my readers' emotions. Like…a huge part of me knew people expected the airport scene to be first…so like the jerk that I am, I made it last. Haha…/sigh. I'm glad the kiss was well received though. After posting it and rereading it, I thought I could've added more…but sometimes more becomes less…and I dunno…it's a gray area I need work in. Now I must apologize for putting these two girls through all this. I mean…as a writer I create the backstory, but when you put in a neat single file line like that…holy crap they weren't dealt an easy hand. And here I am just tossing more crap for them to go through…jerk author…But rest assure (or not cuz it's not quite done yet and there's still more for them to go through) that this specific misunderstanding, was just that…and they got over it pretty well…which is nice. **

**You're awesome: If they weren't officially dating before, they certainly are now. Elsa likes making things difficult. I think at the end of the day, Anna's best interest is always first and foremost for her so, even as the wrap up of this chapter comes to a positive note, the ride isn't quite over yet. And fourth…FOURTH? O.O Thanks for putting it so high in the pedestal that it requires a reread. **

**barbara: Bumpy roads are fun! And the kiss being hotter than an M-rated lemon sounds like a prize I don't want…hmm…Kurrent's ideas deserve an AU one-shot…seriously! Ugh…the amount of extra scenes this story crops up in my head is uncountable. The explanation has been…explained…And it's definitely not as bad as people thought it would be. Off to work on the next chapter I go. **

**Guest: The week has approached, this is a tad late, but I hope it was semi-worth it regardless of the shortness in comparison to previous chapters. **


	11. Chapter Eleven: Interlude

**AN: Yeah…alright. Rating has changed from T to M. If smut (let's face it, that's exactly what it is) isn't your thing, I completely understand. I miscalculated my ratings for this story and if some people get angry at that, sorry…it wasn't planned, but it is what it is. I can honestly say though that you won't miss a lot of the plot (what plot?) so if you decide not to read, it should be fine. Regularly scheduled programing will return next week. For those sticking around to read…umm…enjoy? **

Chapter 11: Interlude

Sleep isn't forthcoming.

It's not that she's not tired. Her entire body, right down to her bones, feels weary. And of course she would be…After everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours how could she not feel the strain of fatigue and sleep? It's there, just behind her eyelids. Motioning her—beckoning to join her sister in the land of dreams. Right now though, this task is proving to be difficult.

A half a foot separates her from the slumbering girl, an expanse of a naked back in her field of vision. She's been staring at this wonderful sight for…possibly an hour—she's stopped paying attention to the time since the even breathing of a freckled back began.

The lamplight, turned on its dimmest setting casts a shadowy glow upon the room, dark enough that it allows Anna to keep sleeping without the interruption of a glare of light, but bright enough that Elsa can keep staring at the smatter of freckles showered atop rounded shoulders and cascading even lower to a curved back.

The blonde had always had a strange curiosity for her sister's pigmented skin. She's clearly biased because on anyone else, freckles are ugly—a marring of otherwise flawless skin. It doesn't enhance beauty, but hides it; a discoloration the majority of people attempt to cover instead of present. She's somewhat glad that hers aren't very noticeable.

As a child she was never one to play outside, opting for the warmth and relative safety of her parents' estate. This trend continued even after Anna's birth and their consequent childhood together regardless of the fact that the smaller girl had been her polar opposite and would always, without hesitancy, drag her out to play.

As explorative eight and five year olds, their backyard had been capacious then. Imagination only broadened the parameters: an aging oak became a rocket to fly them off the Mars (the greenhouse); rhododendron bushes hid ninja bad guys under the secret hiding spot beneath the roots; the inside of the shed housed some peculiar aliens. Their adventures were limited only to what they couldn't think of. Their dad, in an effort to keep them occupied at home since he and Helene had been too busy to take them out most of the time, even had a treehouse built for their enjoyment, later proving to be a bad idea because of the rambunctious redhead, who had an affinity of doing _everything _without supervision. One morning, she had scaled and climbed the treehouse, lost her footing somewhere in the middle and had fallen, breaking her left arm in the process.

Elsa still remembers the chaos this had wrought on the household, and even though no one really remembers it now, it proves to be one of those memories that stick to her because it becomes one of the first times she had felt the palpable heaviness of responsibility she had never experienced before: what being an older sister really entailed.

That morning, Anna had snuck into her room in her polar bear pajamas, citing adventure even before sunup. Elsa had refused. Her sister, already stubborn as a mule and finding out ways to be even more-so at such an early age, insisted (more than insisted). She had attempted to drag the blonde out of bed at which point the older girl had pushed her off and told her, none too nicely, to get out of the room so she can sleep. The petulant redhead had thrown a small tantrum complete with the small threat of having fun without her. Sleep won in Elsa's mind so she hadn't cared. Twenty minutes later, apocalypse had rained down upon the Andersen household.

No one blamed her…of course. If anything, their father had blamed himself the most, second only to their mother who had an I-told-you-so look the entire ride to the emergency room. It didn't take the sting out of knowing she could've prevented the accident though. If she had been there, maybe she could've persuade the younger girl to do something else. If anything, she could've caught Anna as she was falling. It didn't matter if they both ended up hurting from the fall…Even more-so if only the blonde would be hurt from it. If Anna was safe, that's all that mattered.

This last thought has been tattooed in her mind ever since that day.

If the redhead wanted to go out and play in the scorching sun, there was no other option except being liberal with the suntan lotion (they had learned pretty fast that the taller girl's skin burned quite quickly even with a thick layer of the viscous liquid). If Elsa's woken up in the middle of the night for some impromptu sleep over complete with forts and whatever Anna's small, but overactive mind can conjure, she can kiss resting for an indefinite time period goodbye, at least until the smaller girl becomes so pooped that she'd just collapse from ebbing excitement.

For years, her father had voiced his concern of her little sister's inability to be her own self—always seeming to tag along to whatever the blonde would do. Elsa never corrected him in the fact that it was completely the other way around. Freckly, sun loving Anna had been so independent from the start, it was almost scary. At first, it was horrifying because the taller girl didn't want another 'treehouse accident' to happen. The only way this could be remedied was to stick to her like glue. Most of the time, she could get away with relegating the overactive girl with a safe and, ultimately, boring indoor activity: drawing, watching cartoons/movies, playing video games. In due time though, these would turn rather lackluster to the redhead and she'd always want something…more.

At eight, Anna had wanted to learn how to ride bikes. The blonde agreed so long as they started with the tandem kind. The thrill seeking behavior wasn't alleviated regardless—the smaller girl had the tendency of standing on the seats, small hands clasped on her shoulders and hoots and laughter bursting intermittently through an excited mouth into her ready ear while she pumped away at the pedal, utmost concentration placed in making sure they wouldn't topple over.

Upon reflection, Elsa supposes that this is how they got to be so close with each other. It would seem the only time they would be separated was when they were in school, but even then, especially during their elementary school years, she would always try to find the redhead in the crowd, regardless of the fact that they hadn't shared a lunch period or recess. There had always been that integral part of her that needed to know that Anna was safe. For years, she had attributed it to the complex of being the older sister. Just like her parents had a responsibility for the two of them, she felt it was her sole responsibility to take care of the smaller girl. So she had…Like a silent angel, she had always watched in the background, always watching for the inevitable accidents, watching out for warnings, and being Anna's overall voice of reason. It made it a tad easier that the redhead simply adored and listened to her, and she made it easier in turn by letting the smaller girl get away with the majority of activities she wanted done.

Then, it changed.

It wasn't sudden, that's for sure. She'd had an inkling for some time of what her twisted mind had brought to her attention, and by the time she had the courage to face it, she'd already been in too deep. Not too surprising, considering she'd practically watched and in essence protected the redhead for years. The evolution for those feelings were practically inevitable.

Having Anna in her life as a constant meant she didn't really need any other friends—the smaller girl was a handful enough by herself. School was for work, and home was for play. There was really no need for differentiating because it filed everything in a neat line anyway. And this worked for _years. _In due time, she had accrued classmates that respected and envied her, but never truly befriended her because that was a two way road, and she wasn't very forthcoming with her own end of the bargain if Anna already took the majority of it. It's not to say she couldn't have made friends. She knew herself enough that anything she wants is only a mindful effort away. But other people just weren't…important. She didn't need them…that's for sure. Not like how she needed her little sister.

At the other end of the spectrum, there was never a form of jealousy for when Anna would shower her attention to other people. After all, she was the sun and the way of nature was that things naturally gravitated to her. She would bring friends and classmates after school and, again because this is Anna, would invite the blonde to any planned activity. She would join, but only to ensure her sister's relative safety. It helped that she was years older and had, by then, exuded a more mature aura that the smaller girl's peers either tended to avoid her altogether or watch in awed wonder from afar—usually the latter. Nevertheless it helped because then she could keep an eye on Anna without another person's meddlesome presence.

The gradual change, the irksome feeling she had been pushing away incessantly, gave her a proverbial smack in the face in sophomore year.

Her sister was changing…and these changes were amazing.

Middle school invited extracurricular activities grade school couldn't provide, and Anna wanted to try _all of it_. Cross country started during the beginning of term, followed by basketball in winter, and lastly softball in spring. The next year, she tried the other sports she wasn't able to the year before: soccer, swimming, and tennis, all in their respective time frames. The growth spurt in tandem with the physical exertion left her body…in perfect condition, at least in Elsa's eyes.

The curves started showing, the extra sunshine darkening every freckle, and the baby fat began rolling off in favor of lean ripples of muscle on a petite, but strong frame. Every change became noticeable, from the spritely steps (more graceful than she had been prior but still cutely clumsy at times) to the growing determination in a straight back. The years of open choices have given the redhead assurance, self-confidence, and a steadfastness borne from not having to worry about consequences or repercussions. The last bit, Elsa feels particularly proud of, because she knows she had as much to do with Anna's growth into a confident adolescent, as her parents. There was no coddling or restrictions, just open warnings and mild cautions as the smaller girl took every forward step.

The blonde had always protected her sister…from anything. So it would only make sense to protect the smaller girl from the monster Elsa was turning into…inevitably. Protecting her sister from her protector. The irony is certainly not missed. It became apparent that this is where being a constant presence to the redhead had backfired. It was jarringly obvious when her doors were suddenly closed when they had been open prior—candid conversations turning stilted, and all their time spent together to none at all.

Upon retrospect, the blonde surmises that she should've gone the slowly, but surely route—break away, but in a progressive degree. Back then though, it hadn't been very simple, not that she was expecting it to be. Her hormonal body had been in a constant war with her logical mind, the only clear agreement between the two of the need to shield her sister from herself. So she tried, and it wasn't easy because she knew the pain her inattention and constant cold shoulders were doing to the smaller girl, and in the end, because Anna's happiness had always been first and foremost, she had relented to reopening the door, encasing her feelings in a hard shell so that it would never see the light of day. Preparations for the inevitable separation began soon after.

If her parents' accident had never happened, she would've stayed blissfully unaware of her obvious failure in the matter of her sister's relative safety from, well…her. The way everything fell into inadvertent hell conjures such irony that it's almost laughable. She couldn't have failed harder if she tried…

Everything would be so different if she only figured out sooner that running away wasn't going to solve anything. It's not to say she would've told Anna about her feelings in that reality. She surmises that in any scenario, that would be the last thing she'd do. Because then she'd be in this position she's in now…a scenario so different and so…_sweet_…it's almost impossible to believe. Elsa's never been one for dreams. Ever the pessimist, a bleak reality is more favorable than a dream full of would-be shattered hopes.

So now that she's here…what's the next step?

One thing hasn't changed (will never) since Anna's fall from the treehouse: the discernible burden of responsibility…and the fact that she's failed, yet again, only in the highest form, this time around, makes everything so much harder to swallow.

She doesn't want to think about the future, so of course she does…and her heart trembles at such a bleak reality forthcoming the sweet dream that she never wants to wake up. Just like everything though, it's an inevitability. And just like before—more than her name, more than her future—she's afraid for her sister's. How can she protect her from this when in the end, she's the one responsible for it? It's in her hands to let it continue or…sever it. She stews on the latter option, coming to a brief conclusion that, really, it's no option at all. She'd never hurt Anna that way. The only way it can end…is if the smaller girl wishes it. Judging from what just occurred in the last several hours…that's not going to be anytime soon. Although…this train of thought conjures up a new one: how would she be if _Anna_ were to suddenly cut this…whatever this is?

Nothing could hurt her more…but she already knows…it's an option she wouldn't even need to contemplate. If Anna decides to end this tomorrow, she'd follow and agree willingly—even with an understanding smile attached outwardly while she dies slowly from the interior festering wound.

How would life be like after? She bets everything would feel so…one-dimensional; the last five years only with a lingering sense of fulfillment that wasn't there before. That's what happens when you're given the world only for it to be snatched back so abruptly. Hope and happiness dangling, just within reach—enough for a taste that would only leave you wanting more…and the next second? Gone…like scattering fall leaves swept away by brisk autumn wind.

The dreary prospect is enough to ring the hollowness in the cavity of her chest…but what is she to do when this scenario is the only one that doesn't jeopardize her sister's future and doesn't make her feel like the failure she's been the majority of her life, at least when it comes to the smaller girl?

She sighs into the cool air, goose pimples prickling through her skin in an outward violent wave. The fact that the AC is working quite well now barely registers in her mind, just an automatic response of pulling the thin sheet up to her shoulders and covering the two of them in the process.

A pessimistic thought reigns above all else as she stares at the back of an unkempt bushy red mane.

If the bleakness of the future is all that really stands as a reality for the two of them, then this is fleeting, and because this is fleeting and she is, above all else, a selfish human being that wants and wants and wants…

The need to touch the sleeping girl feels like a drug withdrawal, and she's only minutely aware of her trembling fingers as they crawl from her side to the blanket, pulling it down so the unabashed view of a perfect, smooth back returns in her line of sight. The light skin, just a tad darker than hers, glows almost ethereally in the dark, and as more of the blanket slides off, first from freckly shoulders down to a curvaceous waist, she's sure for a little bit more, at least, that sleep is definitely not forthcoming yet.

That sweet, familiar pulse in her lower belly thuds almost rhythmically, in tandem to how much skin is being revealed little by little. When she finally gets it down to the curve of the smaller girl's hips, she lets the thin sheet remain in place, her eyes raking in a flawless body and willing her own to stay…just a little bit longer so she can admire the view. She had never been one to be very voyeuristic with past flings, but of course she already knows it's because none of them can hold a candle to her sister and the overall influence the younger girl has on her, apparently picky, libido.

It's almost laughable how deep she's in…

She extends a hand close enough so her chilled fingers can graze the supple skin lightly, her index and middle finger skimming over a dark spot upon Anna's back, just above her buttocks and to the right of the lumbar portion of her spine.

Tossing carefulness in the wind, the blonde pushes herself lower into the bed until she's eye to eye with the small, oval, dark brown melanin, curious eyes grazing over the birthmark for a second before folding a hand upon a hot waist and pressing her lips atop it. Her thoughts scatter as the taste of the smaller girl's back on the tip of her tongue overrides everything else, her lips pressing firmly upon smooth skin and teeth scraping the softness in tandem. She's mildly aware of movement and a small moan reaches her pounding ears, but it merely renews her vigor, her hand pushing Anna's hips so that she's flat on her stomach instead of on her side. Moving swiftly, she slides her body atop the smaller girl's prone form and locks her there, her mouth never ceasing their ministrations atop a heated back as the silent air grows heavy with palpitating moans.

She keeps both hands locked firmly over squirming hips, her mouth deviating from the birthmark to the dips of Anna's lower spine. A detached part of her mind tries to number each nuance and bump her tongue rakes over even as her body sings in suppressed excitement. L-5 to L-1—the redhead's moans muffled against a tightly held pillow; T-12 to T-1—her name in that rugged, guttural groan reverberating through the room; C-7 to C-1—the violent jerking of a responsive body as headiness and want becomes all, but a palpable taste in her tongue.

The smell of the smaller girl is everywhere, first that familiar cinnamon, sunshine, lotion combination that she's grown to associate with her, and next, but certainly more glaring, the intoxicating smell of yearning and demand coating the air around them.

The thought that their bodies, so smooth and soft, fit together so well, enters Elsa's barely-there mind, her mouth skimming peppery kisses across Anna's hairline while their feet and legs fight under an already haphazard blanket. She moves her hands so that they encompass the other's biceps, keeping the redhead as locked in as she was from the very beginning and eliciting a feral, unsatisfied growl from the smaller girl.

_In due time…_she wants to say, but her mouth, lips, and tongue are all still very much too busy, the slickness of her saliva coating any exposed surface. She finds that one of her favorite areas has to be the back of Anna's ear—the naked spot just before her hairline. As her tongue travels the pleasant journey from the smaller girl's neck to said destination, the trembling turns into violent bucks, helpless pleads streaming in her ears that she has to be coldhearted to be unresponsive to it.

She retreats the firm grip from a shaky arm, pushes herself up so that the smaller girl has room to turn around if she wants to, but remains atop her, and watches in mild fascination at the laborious, uneven breaths over a glistening back, the trail of her saliva discernible even from the soft glow of the lamp. She's brought back to reality rather abruptly as Anna turns in one swift motion and pulls her down without preamble, a frustrated mouth crashing upon her own and a vexed tongue fighting for dominance—a battle she's more than willing to partake.

At this point, the blanket is all, but a fleeting memory, kicked at the bottom of the bed with little thought as every portion of their bodies collide, the redhead's firm embrace locking her in place. She's too aware of the throbbing in her lower midsection, heightening to an impending insatiable degree with each brush of a tongue, scratch of her back, moan of her name, and she knows this table will turn rather quickly if she doesn't act sooner than the smaller girl.

She supposes it's about time Anna finds some of her…quirks in the bedroom. Nothing like the present to start.

Their mouths break off roughly, dissatisfaction growling from the redhead's bruised lips as the blonde slides away, leans off of the edge of the bed, pulls the bedside drawer open, and searches the inside of it by touch, finding the long silky fabric she's been looking for after a moment.

"Elsa?"

Hearing her name in that breathless tone immediately takes her back, her body as unwilling as her mind to leave her sister's side for too long. Without word, she slides atop the smaller girl, straddles her, finds a delirious sense of high as those mesmerizing green-blue eyes rake over the surface of her just as exposed body, and tightly holds on to hands that are just beginning the impish task of crawling up to her chest. She holds them above Anna's head, opening the fisted hand to hold on to the wooden railing of the headboard before hastily tying the dark blue, silky scarf, first upon the alabaster wrists, then around the gaps of the mahogany headboard.

She chuckles at the confused expression on Anna's countenance for a moment, the redhead pulling at the knot experimentally and sees, to the growing chagrin of the smaller girl, how it only tightens the bond furthermore. The helpless look sent her way shoots her mind to overdrive.

She bends over, fingers carding through messy copper strands, thumbs grazing the smoothness of a jawline before her lips are folding over the other girl's pliant mouth again, the kiss slow, unhurried—the opposite to the fervor tongue trying to reassert dominance upon her own. She smirks amidst the kiss, another frustrated growl emanating from the younger girl as another pull tightens the knot even further.

"Handcuff knot," she explains between the small space between them, her lips tugging into a smile as the growl turns into a whimper. Her look turns serious, eyes locked with feverish excitement at the combination of resignation and eagerness upon her sister's face. "Don't pull too much and if you don't like where something's going, please let me know."

The soft body shifts under her, Anna smirking haughtily even with their current position. "Will we need a safe word for this exercise?"

"Hmm," she murmurs into the girl's neck, following the vibrations of a rough swallow and eyeing the still red mark from their earlier escapade. "I wonder…"

_Probably not…_her mind finishes, before her mouth clamps on the same spot, the frenetic beating of the smaller girl's pulse weaving into her tongue.

It's as if everything resounds in clarity in that brief moment, all of her senses working together to ensure of her growing awareness to every little thing.

She clamps her feet over Anna's thighs to prevent wild, intermittent buckles, conscious to the growing heat pooling in her belly and the wetness coating the other girl's stomach where she's sitting. She has half a mind to grind, but stops herself. This whole thing is for Anna after all, even though she'll get as much out of it as the redhead.

Her explorative mouth dips down further, to the bump of a clavicle, her ears picking up the potent combination of moans, groans, the insistent pulling of the knot, and the headboard creaking at the former action. And it becomes so surreal that she can do this—that it's allowed and reciprocated and _wanted. _It renews her fervor, doubles the effort. She wants Anna to feel how she feels, especially in the dead of night when everyone's eyes are turned away and they can have solace and privacy and just be who they are. 

She proceeds forward, lower still, to the valley of the other girl's breasts, her peripherals catching stiff, aroused peaks garnering for her attention. It's not that she means ignore them, but she wants something done first, and nothing can really stop her when she's already set her mind to it. Her hands brush through smooth skin, stopping at the sides of Anna's things before coming around inward and prying the other girl's legs open, setting herself in the middle and catching her sister's heated green-blue gaze locked on her own. The pleading want and need so perceptibly imbedded in them matches hers to a tee and as she splays the smooth legs to each side of her hips, she stretches back up, and recaptures those ruby red lips, fighting the fog in her mind as the smaller girl's heated core brushes against her stomach, droplets of sheer slick wetness smearing her lower abdomen as Anna grinds her hips unabashedly into her body.

The heavy moans vibrate in their mouths, the redhead's lips adamant in keeping her there, but her body and mind are far too gone to want something so innocent as kisses. She breaks the lip lock just as roughly as the first time, the younger girl's groan rebounding across the silent room as more frustrated creaks from the headboard join the noise.

She renews her quest, hands skimming the sides of a smooth, perfect body as her lips, tongue, and mouth dance across an expanse of salty skin, sweat from their pressed bodies adding to the unbreakably heady atmosphere coating the room. The rippling of muscles under a flat abdomen fascinates her in between suckles and licks, sliding to a dip of a small, cute bellybutton and ravaging the small concave with an eager tongue, creating violent aftershocks from the girl under her.

The intoxicating smell, a combination of her arousal and Anna's surrounds her, fills her head, and guides her mouth, lower still, to soft burnish curls. She's mildly aware that her sister's trembling, looks up, through the wonderful view of a supple, eager body and towards those same orbs looking back at her, clouded in desire, suppressed excitement, affection, and love.

Elsa can only smile wordlessly, eyes grazing over secured hands and white knuckles gripping her headboard, before looking away towards her not-far-off destination. She inhales deeply, the overwhelming scent of body soap and desire clouding what little control she has left.

In retrospect, she wasn't tentative about…any of it. It's not as if she's been waiting for this moment. A huge part of her knew it would never happen—had relegated this private dance as something she would never share with the younger girl, despite the fantasies she'd wrought up and thought over all the years. So now that it's here, before her, on a silver platter, tied up, unable to fight back (not that Anna would—they're both quite aware of how consensual this whole thing is and will continue to be), the feeling coursing through her is akin to a dying man needing water or food—a life essential. She wastes no time with reluctance, the conviction of her unapologetic actions triggering a loud moan and uncontrollable twisting of a lithe body held tightly under her strong grip. The guttural groans of her name in reverent repeat only makes her actions bolder, all of her concentration focused on moving her mouth, lips, and tongue in tandem to the buckling and trembling of a heated core. Her own wetness pools from the over-intoxication, inner thighs clamping, trying to find reprieve, but coming off too short. All she knows is, she's unwilling to touch herself—it wouldn't be very fair for Anna who has been wanting to do that since her abrupt awakening.

A random (or not so random) thought strikes her as her lips clamp on the center of a slippery nub, eliciting another sporadic jerk and moan in the otherwise still air: Anna tastes…wonderful. She doesn't think her mind is _trying_ to put the smaller girl up in an already too high pedestal, but…oral sex isn't something she's ever really been forthcoming to give, especially concerning past partners. It seemed too…personal…for someone she had just met.

Here and now, with only this girl, there's nothing she'd be more than willing to do. She could, literally, stay here all night and just…feast on the sweetness coating her tongue, lap up the juices trickling out of an excited core. She finds it sweeter the further in she explores, and is just a tad disappointed that her tongue…can't go that far. She makes up for it, or tries to, Anna's pleads, groans, and occasional curses prodding her into renewed vigor.

Only when the whines and groans filter through her ears does she stop, looking up and eyeing half lidded turquoise orbs gazing pleadingly down at her.

"Yes, Anna?" she murmurs, the vibrations of her mouth against the other girl's folds sending another jolt through the smaller girl's body.

"Elsa…_please…_"

She licks the length of the other girl's inner thighs, a sadistic chuckle releasing from her throat as the violent tremble renews all over again. "Be clear," she says firmly, index and middle finger joining her mouth in caressing a pulsating nub. "Tell me what you want."

A frustrated growl claws out of Anna's throat, the ripping of fabric tearing through the air not too long after. Elsa moves upwards, right hand propping her up and the length of her body keeping the redhead's legs open, accessible. Her eyes dart at, first her sister's wrists to make sure she's unhurt, and then the silky scarf, tsking loudly in mock indignation at the smaller girl's wrongdoing. The knot is still in place, but barely.

"What shall we do with you?" she asks, bending over and ghosting a kiss on a pouty mouth. Her fingers glide effortlessly over a slick opening, the digits coating in a mixture of saliva and arousal poised at the entrance of a shuddering entrance.

"Please let me hold you."

Anna needn't say more. The blonde balances herself so that she doesn't topple over, her right hand pulling the fabric free of its knot and her sister's arms coming around her in quick succession. She's pulled down fiercely, adamant tongue lapping up the juices coating her mouth before prying her lips apart and sending all words to extinction.

Her fingers glide through the smaller girl, a loud groan, moan combination dissolving in her throat as their mouths continue the battle for domination. There's a small pause in Anna's action, mouth in a perpetual state of opening, as the taller girl delves in deeper, her fingers finding purchase in the slick, silky cavernous folds. Freckled arms embrace her, locks her in tightly and growing in strength concurrent to how far in she is.

A breathy whisper right at the concave of her ear sends all of her self control to scatter, the need to make this girl _feel_ first and foremost in her mind.

"Elsa…I love you."

Incoherent moans fill the room momentarily, the need to be one person agreed wholeheartedly with no words needed between the two of them. Anna's sitting atop her, grinding into her hand as her fingers pump and curl further in. Their breaths become short and shallow simultaneously, the redhead's own fingers digging deep into her scalp and pulling at the roots of her hair—the impending pain makes way to easy arousal. Her hoarse, inarticulate moans travel loudly into the ceiling, head thrown back in careless abandon and looking every bit the perfect work of art she tries to capture, at least to the taller girl's eyes.

As the tightening around her digits begin, Elsa's face is gathered by shaky hands, short sweet breaths fanning into her face as Anna leans their foreheads together. Green-blue eyes are wide and dilated, glazed, but focused; seeing her, only her. The kiss placed upon her lips is rough, filled with desire and urgency, and only makes her redouble her effort, her thumb pressing on a throbbing nub, delving her fingers in deeper if at all possible, until Anna breaks apart in front of her, her name cried out coarsely where it dissolves in her mouth and the smaller girl's body crumpling heavily atop her own.

Their heavy breaths fill the silence of the room, the cool sheets meeting Elsa's back momentarily as she guides her body and her sister's, still leaning heavily upon her own, back onto the bed. She retreats her damp fingers, eliciting a groan from the redhead from the inevitable severance and the two of them could only lay there for a long moment, the blonde's mouth skimming soft kisses on wet, sweaty bangs and the smaller girl holding tightly on to her waist.

The throbbing in her lower belly still aches in unfulfilled want, but she pushes it aside, grabbing the strewn blanket with maximum effort due to her jelly like bones, and covering Anna and herself with it. She doesn't blame the smaller girl for the impending exhaustion—she woke her up for this after all. Still, she finds the mumbles inciting "her turn" endearing and can only respond with a shake of the head and some more kisses on a sweaty forehead.

"Tomorrow, Anna."

"Promise?" is the sleepy mumble that retorts still quite petulantly even though fatigue marks every inch of the redhead's body.

"Promise. Anything for you."

The dopey grin warms her heart, and she meets the same wonderful lips for a final time in addition to a peck on a small nose, before tucking the blanket even deeper around them.

Sleep wasn't very forthcoming earlier, but she finds it quite easy now with Anna's warm body wrapped around hers and the rhythmic breathing of the smaller girl palpable in her ears.

O—O

Being woken abruptly has never been in Elsa's list of pleasant things. Anna's teaching her, slowly but surely, to maybe change that list…at least in this respect.

The first thing she notices is that she can't move her arm. Like her sister's, several hours prior, they're above her head and upon closer inspection, sees that they're handcuffed to the bedpost…literally. No knot…just…handcuffed.

"Good morning," Anna greets her with a rather impish smile, sitting on the side of the bed and donning a red lacy bra and mismatching gray panties. The sight is endearing and oh so Anna, but she finds it a little unsettling that she's still in her birthday suit while the younger girl had already, apparently, started dressing for the day. "I found your stash of naughty things."

"It would appear so," Elsa mumbles, tests the handcuffs and hears the minute scrape of metal against wood. She turns her head to the curtains, sees that it's still relatively dark outside, but traces of light is beginning to filter in their surroundings. "Time?"

"Don't worry yourself about trifle things."

Her eyes narrow at a dismissive sentence, but Anna only grins at her in a rather…feral manner.

"Did I do something last night to merit being a prisoner in my own home?"

The redhead snorts. "Prisoner? Hardly! Payback…more like."

"It wasn't good?"

Warmth passes over the playfulness in the smaller girl's bright eyes, leaning over momentarily and pressing a soft kiss upon Elsa's dry lips. She licks them in afterthought.

"I think you and I both know the answer to that," Anna says softly, eyes twinkling and even teeth sparkling in a wide smile. "But enough about me…" she continues with a flourished sigh, eliciting a small laugh from the blonde. "Who knew someone had such…dom issues?"

"Really? You haven't already noticed that I'm kind of a control freak when it comes to…everything?" the taller girl asks, shifting so that she's as comfortable as she can be considering her position. She settles deeper into her pillow, eyes locked with still mirthful turquoise orbs. "Why would my sex life be any different?"

"Very good point," the smaller girl concedes. "Which brings me to my first lesson this morning."

"You're in a _way_ too good of a mood…"

The vibrating laughter seeps pleasantly all the way to her now waking bones.

"You know what I noticed last night? I mean, I was…I was pretty much not paying attention to anything else, but what you were doing last night, but you know what I kept noticing?"

Elsa wonders briefly if playing along will be adding to the punishment or getting her out of the cuffs sooner. She's praying for the latter, although she's pretty sure that it's going to be wonderful regardless of which outcome prevails. "What did you notice sunflower?"

Anna's grin lights up even more. A small part of her is glad of such a welcoming acceptance to a nickname that's pretty much already imbedded in her mind for some time.

"You clamp your legs a lot."

Her eyes roll to the ceiling, a huff coming out of her mouth soon after. "Yes, little sister, it's called sexual frustration. When the object of your affection is figuratively breaking in front of you and it's all your doing, it elicits an unmerciful amount of dopamine and serotonin to flood your sensors—

"Okay, okay! No scientific jargon! Don't ruin the moment!"

The blonde laughs, wanting to graze the smaller girl's hot cheek with her hand. She settles on pulling the cuffs just a little harder and sighing loudly at the inconvenience of immobility.

"Have you ever been in that position?"

The serious question, inflected in a huskier voice than she's used to from her sister sends the reverberations in her lower belly to pound again…like a heartbeat only more…discernible.

She swallows the growing accumulation of saliva in her mouth as Anna moves off of the bed, going into her drawer of unspeakable things and taking out a couple pieces of cloth reminiscent to the one that tore the night prior.

"No, I can't say that I have." The tightness in her throat is unmistakeable in the silent air between them.

The redhead's grin merely widens, walking leisurely to the bottom of the bed and sweeping the blanket off of what's left of her modesty. Her legs come up automatically to shield herself, but a strong hand grasps one ankle, the argument dying in her throat as green-blue eyes merely look at her seriously—no words uttered, no sound made.

She swallows the excitement down, her fingers scratching her open palms in an inadvertent nervous tick. Anna works slowly, as if taking her time. The silky material slides softly against her skin and it's obvious that the smaller girl isn't very familiar with knots, but she makes do with a universal bunny double knot that she attaches to the wooden railing at the foot of her bed. Again, she takes her time, going to the other foot, fingers caressing the underside of the blonde's feet before encompassing her ankle with a firm hand and pulling it away—much…further away…from the other one.

Spread eagle…there's really no better term to coin her current position, except her arms aren't spread out as well. She feels so…vulnerable…in every possible way, and in front of any other person, this position would be unacceptable. She would break her headboard first than be subjugated to this much…exposure. But…this is for Anna. Anna who still looks at her with as much adoration as before, but these days, her eyes have a potent mixture of desire, want, and longing. The only woman in the world she could be this open to, literally and figuratively.

An errant hand caresses her, starts from her ankles and works its way to her shin, past her kneecaps and her thighs, skims playfully over platinum blonde curls before continuing on to middle of her abdomen and up the valley of her breasts, ending at her face. She leans her head into the warm palm, goose pimples erupting the entirety of her body.

"Cold?" is the soft question from the floating head a half a foot from her own.

Elsa can only shake her head, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she attempts to control the thudding of her blood against her ears regardless of the impossibility of the task.

"Good. We're going to start with lesson one then: control."

She breathes a sharp intake of air as Anna's knees settle at both of her sides, straddling her, but not quite, considering the smaller girl is making it a point not to touch her.

"Sometimes…there are just things that are beyond your control…right?"

Her eyes flicker to Anna's hands, dainty fingers brushing the thin strap of her scarlet bra down over her left shoulder, and again repeating the action in her right. It's hard to swallow the growing lump situating itself in her throat, but she attempts to, eyes raking at the smaller girl's body as the contraption comes off revealing pert, perfect breasts. Her hands claw at the air automatically, tongue darting out to refresh desert dry lips. She's not aware that she's breathing heavily through her mouth. If she were to be perfectly honest, she's stopped being aware of anything not regarding the siren currently on top of her.

"Elsa…focus…"

She inhales deeply, eyes darting away from pink mounds to her sister's vibrant eyes.

"Control…it's not always something achievable. Do we have an agreement on that?"

Elsa nods vigorously, the ache in her belly growing with each passing second.

"Good," Anna says with a soft smile. "Case, and point."

The redheads fingers begin their ascent over her own body, first ghosting over the swell of her breasts and then each index finger and thumb clamping over an attentive nub. Her moans fill the air, blue-green eyes shutting as she unabashedly touches herself, hands rough and tugging one moment, and soft and caressing the next.

The growl that elicits from Elsa's throat is harsh and patchy, hands jumbling into fists as she attempts to move forward to touch the smaller girl, feel her body…_something. _Her legs flex together—attempt to meet and lessen the insatiable ache in her belly. But the cuffs stay resolute on her wrist, the metal biting her skin when she ended up pulling too hard, and Anna, while a novice at tying stellar knots, is apparently pretty good at the amateur double bunny knot; her legs barely cross an inch before force pries them apart again.

The vixen before her remains unapologetic, seemingly unaware of her outward turmoil as those hands continue their ministrations, every release of a harsh grunt or soft moan in a just as pliant mouth pounding in tandem to slickness coating her inner thighs.

Her mind briefly, _unnecessarily_ thinks that at least it can't possibly get worse…and soon after those dilated blue-green eyes are on her again, darkened with the intensity of lust and hunger. White teeth come down to clamp a bottom lip, Elsa's stare focused on the whiteness of those lips before they glisten back into their full, red, _bruised_ color.

"P-please…Anna…"

She swallows the dry patch in her throat in an attempt to alleviate it, fingers scratching her palm in building frustration. But the smaller girl merely looks on wordlessly, her right hand once palming her right breast moving lower.

"Christ…"

The word bites the air between them, Anna leaning forward in what the blonde hoped to be a sign of mercy only to find out seconds later that it was merely to doff her remaining piece of clothing.

Her eyes widen at the removal of the grey underwear, skimming at the wetness coating the center and unable to help the heavy intake of air, the smell of heady arousal permeating their surroundings discarding the remaining vestige of self-control she has left. She watches in rapt attention as the redhead's hand skims over a flat abdomen and dips inside a small bellybutton, the blazing trail reminding her heavily of what she had tasted just hours back. Those same firm digits comb through fiery curls, a sharp simultaneous inhale releasing from the two of them as Anna's fingers finally meet their goal.

Blaring heat rushes through her system, the sound of a frenzied heartbeat thudding in her right temple. The smaller girl doesn't have to act wanton, she's the very epitome of it…so much so that Elsa can actually taste the passion in the tip of her tongue. She wants to shut her eyes close to center herself—a last ditch effort at staying sane, but when those same fingers curl inwards, disappear, reappear, all in tandem to the conductor's every whim and direction, it's all but an impossibility.

Anna's moans bounce across the room, each sound sending pleasant shivers to cascade through her body, collecting in a pool of moist unadulterated need in her core. And Elsa wants her—_craves_ her to the point that she _knows_…if this form of unusual torture continues, her headboard is going to be broken before even sunup.

"Elsa…"

Her name, spoken in that breathless voice flips her stomach wildly, her sister's half lidded eyes locking with hers again and a lazy smile etching upon an achingly beautiful countenance.

The smaller girl leans towards her, face mere inches from her own. She latches on to the feel of the redhead's forearm moving against her abdomen, listening intently to the sounds of friction, heat, and wetness as those fingers curl deeper to a place she's dying to reacquaint herself with.

The blonde moves her head up in pursuit of those wonderful lips only for Anna to move back again, just minutely, eyes dancing with mirth before lust overshadows them again.

"Anna…" she calls, voice croaky from the imminent lump still lodged there. Her arms tug at the cuffs experimentally again, hating the restriction placed upon her, but willing to go through with it because the smaller girl is responsible for it to begin with. "Th-this is…torture…"

The redhead merely smiles at her breathless words, the shaking of an occupied hand stopping abruptly. She's confused momentarily until those digits slowly trail over her body, from her sides, to the swell of her left breast, to her clavicle, past her frenetically beating jugular and then to her lips. She stops thinking, simply opens her mouth and swipes her tongue over the length of Anna's index finger. The blonde stares at the smaller girl resolutely in between lapping each finger, tasting, _drinking_ the arousal in. The familiar sweetness erupts in her mouth, and she wants more—_needs_ more…wishing to alleviate the constant blips pulsating in her lower midsection.

To her growing dismay, the smaller girl begins retreating slick fingers from her mouth causing an inadvertent groan to erupt from her chest.

"Don't worry," the redhead's husky voice streams in her ears. "Lesson's over."

Even before her muddled mind can put the words into coherence, a feverish mouth is ravaging her breast, sending a jolt of electricity to course through her body. She's mildly aware of the guttural groan erupting from her throat, but it sounds so far away, as if underwater. Her body jerks in accordance to the smaller girl's merciless swirling tongue, the pool in her stomach growing with every lash, suckle, and nip. When Anna is done with one mound, she pays the same respect and attention to the other, heated green-blue eyes lock on hers attentively while an unapologetic tongue darts out to taste stiff peaks. That image alone, burned in Elsa's retina, sends her into a newfound high.

She stops caring at the rawness of her wrist due to the metal that had been chafing it from the start. She wants out. The need to have the smaller girl in her arms overrides every other thought, including breathing. Her mind, stuck in this train of thought, is derailed violently when a cool tongue licks the long expanse of her dripping core.

Everything disconnects.

She wasn't even aware of the other girl's transition from her upper body to her lower portion, but as it is, she can't stop the convulsions her body makes as that same torturously wonderful mouth begins anew. She grabs on to the wooden headboard, knuckles turning bone white from her strong grip as her eyes shut reflexively. Her over-sensitized mind pleads for a reprieve so, without much thought (she can barely remember her own name), she turns her head into the insides of her arm and bites down…hard.

"I hope you're not hurting yourself because that's grounds for another lesson."

She whimpers as the vibrations of Anna's words and mouth travel like ebbing ripples across her body, first from the hypersensitive source, then pouring outwards to the tips of her fingers, toes, and hair follicles.

Gnawing at the inside of cheeks, she opens her eyes to the darkened ceiling, just in time for the ministrations to continue. And she can't stand it. Any of it. It's proving to be too much…emotionally—physically.

The thought of her being in this position has never, not once in her life, crossed her mind. Sure she's fantasized it, but always as the aggressor, the top…the dom. The scenario in which Anna is reciprocating her feelings and even more-so acting upon them and showing her that all of this is fine, normal even, for them…just the two of them…Even now, while in this position, in this bed, in this way…it's hard for her to grasp the concept let alone believe it.

Anna is hers. Her sister knows…_everything_…and accepts it wholeheartedly. This isn't a trial phase or a farce. It's _real. _She doesn't ever have to hold back a hug or kiss or touch ever again.

Her vision blurs, the darkness coalescing with the dim lighting to the point where she doesn't know where one starts and the other ends. All she knows is her chest is filled to the brim of so much emotion that it's hard keep in and the whimper that comes out of her throat is different—pained relief, and she's regretful of it the moment the caresses stop.

"Elsa?"

Her eyes shut involuntarily at hearing her name pass through her sister's lips in mild alarm. She means to make a placating noise to stop or impede the smaller girl into crawling up to her now obviously sobbing form, but it's too late. The supple body glides over hers, the warmth and softness of the other's skin a beacon of control for her upended emotions. She's mildly aware of a jingling of keys, the sound of a lock unraveling, and gravity pushing her hands back down onto the mattress. As soon as her wrists are free, she gathers the redhead into her body, loving how the other's freckly arms hold her just as tightly.

"I'm sorry Elsa, I didn't—

"No." She cuts the smaller girl off firmly—resolutely. There's no way in hell she would even allow her sister to think anything or anyone is at fault. She backs away but only enough so that she can encompass the lovely face into her hot palm. She locks eyes with worried turquoises, shaking her head vigorously even as another tear drop falls from the side of her eye. "It's nothing that you did Anna. _Nothing._" She repeats it to drive the point home. "I…I just…it was all of the sudden too much and…I couldn't gather myself." She breathes deeply, their arousal still sticking in the air, but more than that, a hint of something higher—further: a deep sense of longing, shared understanding.

Love.

She swallows through the prevalent lump and is able to conjure up a shaky smile. "I…the thought occurred to me, while…while you were doing what you were doing…that this is all…mutual. It's mutual and it's not made up. You're not some girl I'm pretending is you. You're _you. _And you're not here because of some sick sense of obligation. You just…love me. You want to be with me. _Me._ I…I was briefly overwhelmed by that…and that's why I'm crying like a crazy person."

Anna laughs, the sound tinkling like bells in her ears, and gathers her in those lovely arms again.

"Oh Elsa…"

The softness in the utterance of her name sends a million butterflies to soar through her stomach, and all she can do is hold the other girl that much tighter, palms caressing a smooth back and only somewhat attentive to the bumps and curves melding so perfectly with her own.

"What shall we do with you?"

The familiar words cause a trickling of laughter over the heaviness of her chest, the warmth and devotion sparkling clearly through green-blue eyes exclusively for her. Anna scoots back just a smidgen, turning over her right shoulder first to untie the knot on her ankle and doing the same to the other side soon after. Elsa gathers her legs back only so she can straddle the smaller girl's lap, their foreheads touching briefly as she stares into a stalwart visage.

"I love you Anna," she whispers in the space between them, loving the smile that the words easily elicit from the redhead.

Their mouths meet in a now familiar dance, the back of her mind keeping her cognizant of the other's grazing fingers traveling over her shoulder, arm, jumping ship to her stomach and resting easily on her upper thigh. She's guided back onto the soft mattress, Anna disallowing the sweet kiss to end even as she spreads the blonde's legs apart and finds purchase in a trembling waist.

"You know when we were kids?" the redhead asks as she breaks off the kiss, face just inches away and wet lips up in a quirky smile.

Elsa nods distractedly, the majority of her attention rapt to the trailing hand now playing with her platinum blonde curls.

"Back then…of course because we were kids, I thought it was normal for us to be together all the time—siblings and all."

Those hands navigate lower, a sharp intake of air pulled into her lungs as they reach her folds; she doesn't think it's possible for her to be anymore wet than she currently is. Eyes closing automatically, she focuses on that one feeling in her inner thighs, jerking uncontrollably as the smaller girl's digits graze over the nub. Her hand darts out, grips a strong arm, scratches smooth skin and feels Anna wiping away the accumulation of wetness on her cheeks.

The soft voice streams in her ears, hot air fanning on her face as the redhead leans over her, forehead to forehead. "Elsa, open your eyes and look at me."

She breathes the seemingly thin air around them, opens her eyes to soft adoring green-blues, and cards her hands over copper hair, only to shut them tightly again, fisting the strands into bunches, knowing it's painful for the other girl, but the synapses in her brain are scrambling, everything taking a backseat to the fingers finding the entrance, _easily_ passing through, the sound of movement, wetness, and shared moans filling the room.

The intense build up is mind numbing, only a half an ear listening to the soft coos streaming through Anna's mouth as the sparks in the back of her lids detonate in tandem to the hoarse calls of the smaller girl's name from deep in her throat. Her body is singing, convulsions wracking her system as deft fingers move, curl, pump, doing everything right to get her closer and closer to blissful oblivion.

"I got older and realized what you were doing the whole time," Anna whispers, lips moving over hers. Elsa groans as the rhythm doubles, her fingers trying to find purchase on a smooth waist, but her bones, the consistency of jello, makes moving anything jarringly difficult. "I want to do that too. Will you allow it?"

The words aren't making any sense, and she tries to swallow the weight in her throat with a rough swallow, but control, just as Anna has promised, is unattainable.

"Elsa…focus."

"I _can't._"

Her voice is gravelly, the redhead's laugh, sounding more like a cackle in her ears, but she dismisses it—the smaller girl will pay later. Right now…

She grasps Anna's wrist with both hands, arching her back, pulling the other girl in further. Her breaths are raspy and quick, mouth open in dragging silence, and as she expects, the redhead picks up the pace, enthusiastic grunts meeting her ears and a free hand pushing haphazard sweaty blonde strands away.

Coherence dies in her mind, the most paramount being the build up and inevitable release. The begs echo in the recess of her brain (for what she's not quite sure), her mouth parched in steady reticence, open only for sporadic breaths mingling in the same intoxicating air. She hones in on that feeling, the…bubble—savors every push of strong digits, every spot hit in just the right manner.

Her eyes shut close, barring every sense except touch and sound. Anna's fast breaths fan over her face, a merciless hand continuing the relentless assault. Sooner than she'd hoped, because in reality she would want this to last for eternity if possible, the dam collapses—the bubble bursting in an achingly wonderful way.

The cry that comes out of her dehydrated throat doesn't sound like her, at least not in her ears. It's primal and exposed, and all of this just feels so different in comparison to any other encounter she's ever barreled through—so personal and holds so much more meaning than a simple…romp.

The ringing in her ears subside, Anna's soft whispers of love, devotion, and affection surging in her ears, and she has to gather every ounce of energy to cup that lovely youthful face and kiss her wholeheartedly. She wants to say 'thank you', but at the same time, she doesn't want to cheapen what they've just done because of it. She is grateful though. Not for the release or any of the physicality culminating in an experience she'll never forget, but at the surety of the other girl's body language during the entire exchange. Ever the pessimist, she'd been ready for the second guesses, hesitance, and uncertainty. And although it would hurt, she'd be more than understanding of it.

She wonders if she'll ever get used to Anna perpetually proving her wrong in every aspect she wants to be wrong in. It would certainly be a welcome change to her naturally despondent nature.

Their small kiss breaks from sheer exhaustion, her head falling back into a flat, caved-in pillow as she tries to get her breathing regulated. The sounds of a waking city fills her ears and with a tired glance to her windows, she notes the beginnings of another day peeking through the curtains.

Anna moves swiftly, grabbing a towel from the side table and cleaning the two of them with it wordlessly.

"I love you," is the only reply Elsa's able to conjure followed by a lazy smile and fluttering of sleep heavy eyes. Her heart is brimming—so full it's hard to breathe.

Her sister moves away momentarily before coming back to her, bed sheets in hand and pulling her into a tight embrace. The supple body fusing with her own is the best luxury in the world and she takes comfort in being encompassed in strong arms, fingers brushing through her impossibly messy mane.

A strong kiss to the middle of her forehead brings her attention to look up to green-blue eyes looking down at her in reverence. Fingers dance across her cheekbones, the back of a knuckle soft and fleeting upon her skin.

"I want to protect you."

She can feel her eyes widen at the nearly random statement, but her mind brings up what the smaller girl has been saying in between their love making and put two and two together.

"When we were small," the redhead reiterates, "I thought it was normal…how much and how often you were around. The funny thing is, you never hovered. You were there, as a lending hand or as a strong support, but you never stopped me from doing what I wanted or deterred me from…being me. I never got that—never really saw it until you were gone…my guardian angel of sorts." Anna smiles in that beautiful youthful way, fingers carding her hair and grazing her scalp attentively. "I…want to be what you are currently to me. I'm aware of how crazy all of this is—how dangerous. But…if I have you in the end, and if you'll have me…all of it—whatever that's coming…it's worth it. So long as you're with me. So long as you protect me and you allow me to carry some responsibility as well…

"You can't handle all of this by yourself, and I know you want to because you want to shield me from all of it. Just like when we were kids. But I want to share everything with you. The happiness, the pain, the tears, the joy, the frustration, the laughter—everything. Because nothing is worth it if you're not there too…so…please take care of me…and I'll do my best to protect you too…from the world, or whatever that's against us.

"We can't control everything…but if everything falls to hell at least we'll still have each other, and no one can keep that from us."

The reappearance of the lump in her throat makes breathing and talking difficult. The blonde is literally at a loss for words. But it seems Anna understands, as she's wont to do. She merely smiles, that same breathtaking dazzling smile, and all Elsa can do is scramble up, card her fingers into fiery burnish strands and kiss the other girl wholeheartedly, the redhead's arms coming around her waist and pulling her up in an unbreakable embrace.

The sun manages to creep its way up over the horizon, light filtering into every crevice, but they stay exactly where they are: a place with no questions, hesitance, or oppositions. A place where they can feel as if they belong and can just…_be._ In several hours they'll be a few thousand miles away from each other again, but this time will be vastly different.

Apart, but in unity.

Separated, but together.

Anna's right, Elsa muses. Nothing can keep that from them.

**AN: Hi! Welcome to AN number two. Uhh…yeah…this is my first time writing smut. Sorry if it…sucks…hahaha. Again, the word count is low (seems to be a continuing trend) but next week will be the return of the plot (hah!) so I'm hoping to give you guys more then. Thanks again for the favorites, follows, and especially the reviewers. **

**DevotedFan: Ahh, I don't miss school at all. I like work where you don't have to take anything home. Hope this yields a nice break as well…kind of early today huzzah!**

**Misiu: Haha, here's to rereading this one three times too? **

**Guest: Yay, dominant Anna makes a reappearance…:\**

**Jitterbugglie: PLEASE DON'T KILL ANY BABIES, I DON'T WANT THAT IN MY CONSCIENCE. Haha smuff…I think…is that a thing? Or did you make it up? If you made it up, you have a genius idea there. This chapter, less fluff more smut…so I'm just gonna leave this here and hope for the better. I hope it doesn't fall short of expectations. **

**Volchise: Haha alas Anna was too tired to come out and wreck havoc, but given the opportunity, I believe some people would have some bloody noses and get hook punched Hans style. **

**iwantaparrot1: Can I seriously say nothing happens in this chapter, cuz neither of us can argue that, right? I'm glad I was able to show Elsa's anguish upon Anna's absence and you are on the right spot with your guess. We'll see how it pans out next chapter :) The sexual tension has been addressed…and I hope I did it a bit of justice (at least). **

**FreelanceBurn: THANK YOU FOR YOUR INSIGHT. Seriously. If that sounded sarcastic I apologize, but thank you for that. In the near future, I hope to go back, edit that scene and just…I don't know, put a ridiculous number down instead. 100k…is that enough? Haha. And salting…hmm…salt after boiling, note to self. **

**Tripower: You know, it's funny (and also weird) how my readers are more aware of the importance of what I write down in scenes than I am. I forgot that they were making okayu prior to their confession until you brought it up (I just remembered putting okayu in a scene and that's it). Considering I made smut on this fandom, I now feel inclined to do so in H&M…hmm…**

**The Coruscant Veela: Y-you're welcome?**

**SakuraAyanami: No one likes excessive drama! Let's not drag a misunderstanding fifty chapters right? Here's the calm before the storm…or is it?**

**actionpotential: Nothing happens! Nothing ever happens…this chapter tops the cake for nothing happening…XD **

**motherofdragons: Was…this chapter enough to burn the mother of dragons? If not, there's no getting through the thick hide. **

**Kurrent: Oh gosh…the architecture jargon…Now, I'm no architect…and seriously the research put into writing something believable is just…it's kind of crazy sometimes, so thank you for noting it. It feels like time worth spent when someone says it's believable. Here's more to that "making love" thing and here's to a bearable future for them. **

**CanITellUSmThin: I'll put this out Sunday night! Hopefully you're not at work (or anywhere public) and just enjoy it without co-workers breathing down your neck. There's nothing worse than people trying to look over your phone when you're reading something questionable in a public setting. **

**vladivostok: What is Anna if not risky and impulsive as fuck right? **

**Icy-Windbreeze: Will Elsa's classmates find out about their more than close relationship…hmm…I'll see you next chapter :)**

**Crazyla: Elsa (to me anyway) has a maturity that's kind of unattainable. Add to the fact that she just ****_knows_**** Anna in that way versus Anna needing more proof I suppose of the status of their relationship since the way it started was kind of iffy (not being able to talk about it clearly)…it makes a nice dramatic flair in the story if anything. **

**Doesn't Matter42: :) Thank you for the lovely review. I live for the weirdly realistic story lines (oddly enough) and going into their heads and seeing what they're thinking is half the fun. Hope this one (if you do have the stomach to read this—what the hell is this—chapter) is a manageably good read as well. **

**Caliax: Thank you for the compliments. I'm glad I was able to take two days of your life away from you (what? Sorry if that doesn't sound like a good thing all of the sudden) and apparently character development is all I have going for me so that's nice that it's believable in that aspect. I have a tendency to overwrite…which is how the word count on this gets to be long…I just hope it's all coherent and understandable and not just random jargon. **

**kenfromnhus: :) thanks. **

**IronShounen: Angst? Ma'am/sir, you've braced yourself for the wrong emotion this chapter. Angst…maybe next chapter…maybe. **

**drunkpuppy: Thank you for teaching me something I didn't know (I swear, I hope I sound legitimately grateful on these one sided convos cuz it always sounds so sarcastic, but I definitely mean it as a genuine reply). I never knew doff was the antonym for don (although it does make sense). I'll have to go back and edit some chapters, but…:D I used it here! I used it! XD Sorry…stopping now. **

**cutxpaste: Sexy times…here's the sexy times and I hope you're keeping your word on it being a plus…cuz I don't see it. **

**barbara: No need for an AU…here's pretty much not being able to stop and romping the night away…and now that I've crossed that boundary (I've been toeing it for so long) I hope it kind of does the UST I've been building up justice.**

**McHaudegen: Writing a kissing scene is so…awkward. After this week, I've now found out that writing smut is far more awkward, but I hope in the end, it makes for a nice and believable (most paramount) storytelling. I like in-charge Elsa…I really can't see her as anything else but. Thank you for the wonderful review, and I hope this chapter doesn't scare or scar you away from the rest of the story. **


	12. Chapter Twelve: Addressing Reality

Chapter 12: Addressing Reality

Light blue eyes crack to the sound of horns, late morning filters of light, an empty haphazard bed, and the promising smell of bacon in the air. She breathes in deeply, unused to smells emitting in her apartment as she's still in her bedroom and looks towards the digital clock that reads nearly ten. She can't remember the last time she had slept in so late…

Pushing the weightless white bed sheets off, she stares at her body in mild scrutiny for a moment and the relief that follows is so strange to her. She's never felt this form of content before—this freedom for who she is versus who she can be in the light of having…a partner. Because that's what Anna is at the end of the day, among a splay of other categorical things: a partner, a friend, a sister, a lover, her support, her confidant, her ward; it makes absolute sense that the redhead is the focal point of her life when she's so many things to the taller girl.

She's never woken up the next morning after having sex with anyone feeling thrilled. It could be said that she feels the exact opposite: dread. Dread at having to face a stranger in her home if they haven't gone away already and horror at an impending conversation that she doesn't want to have, but usually will be forced to.

Today and many mornings after, her mind gleefully reminds, is the first of many. An inadvertent smile lands on now woken features, the need to see Anna first and foremost. She grabs a random camisole littering the floor, opens her drawer for a fresh pair of panties, and dons them. It's not as if she has to be modest in her own home, although the thought of walking into her kitchen naked as the day she was born crosses her mind, but more importantly her sister's reaction to her boldness.

She wonders briefly if the other girl wants to stay indoors all day…possibly "grace" every part of her condo before her inevitable flight back home. The thought makes her outwardly smirk as she crosses the threshold of her bedroom to the hallway.

There's a small wonder to watching someone do a domesticated task, especially when they're not aware of your presence. Case and point, the present. Anna, her copper strands in a haphazard ponytail, is wearing nothing but a camisole and panties (Elsa's not sure how they both manage to wear the same thing sans color), her light voice singing away to _Drive By _(funny enough), hips shaking to the beat of the music streaming through her ears, while the sounds of frying bacon fill the air, destroying silence and all its perceived golden glory.

The blonde remains in her spot at the end of the hallway for a long moment, light blue eyes grazing at everything, filing it away to reach in later when she needs a light inside a dark tunnel. How is it possible for someone—_anyone—_to be this beautiful and be so natural at it? There's no deliberately wanton movement, even though with personal experience Elsa's seen this gloriousness from her sister. There's just blinding unadulterated light: warm, streaming, full of unharnessed energy. The colorful apron hides nothing of a curvaceous backside, the thought of kissing every expanse of light skin (again) flitting through her mind.

Before she's fully aware of it, Elsa's feet are taking deliberate wide steps towards the unassuming redhead, the need to hold the smaller girl seizing the blonde's consciousness in a tight grip. It's a small wonder that she didn't think her condo was this spacious before, or maybe the desire to run through the seemingly large space between the hallway and kitchen wasn't very important in the past. Regardless, today it feels like a too long distance, her fingers itching at encompassing a smooth waist.

An adorable "eep" sounds from the recess of the back of the smaller girl's throat, releasing a husky chuckle from the blonde. Green-blue eyes widen at first from surprise and then brightens in elation, Elsa's chest feeling light from the adoration and pure love she sees from those orbs glistening back to her. There's no question or hesitance—not that she's expecting it after last night (although, deep inside, she has to admit there's always going to be a part of her questioning all of this), just happiness from seeing her…just that.

Her finger pulls on the right ear bud housed inside a reddened ear, the music streaming from it momentarily between them as she nips on a cool lobe, rolling the flesh with her lips and tasting the tip of it with her tongue. A delicious moan sounds out from the smaller girl before a freckled arm slaps her side eliciting another husky chuckle from her.

"Good morning," she greets, overcome with joy and holding the redhead tighter into her, a warm back melding with her front.

A soft kiss is placed on her cheekbone before Anna goes back to her task. "Morning sleepyhead," she greets as well, using the tongs to turn the bacon over. "You don't usually sleep past eight…if my memory serves me right."

"I don't usually get a morning wake up call that pushes my sleep schedule to ten…if _my_ memory serves me right," is her easy quip, earning a rather proud laugh from the girl in her arms.

"I hope you'll forgive the indiscretion this time around."

Her lips find a freckly shoulder and indulge in kissing every spot, small tremors erupting from the smaller girl as she does so. "Something tells me anything you'll do is forgiven indefinitely."

Anna's hand raises up to her face first, skimming her cheeks before fingers card through her messy fringe. "I better take advantage of it before the pardoning affection dies."

"It'll never die."

She doesn't mean to say it so seriously, but that's how it comes out, sending the smaller girl's back to straighten against hers. In record time the tongs are clattering noisily in the counter and Elsa has half the mind to turn the burner off and shove the hot pan away before Anna turns towards her, arms enveloping her neck and pulling her into a rough kiss. She gladly receives the warm, willing mouth, tongue darting, tasting her lips before pushing its way in.

The familiar throb in her stomach flares, excitement bursting in her chest as she pulls the redhead into her closer, eyes shutting close and honing in on the feeling of soft, fleshy lips melding and dancing with her own.

There's something sensual about _hearing_ the sounds produced from this one action. There are the sweltering moans that linger in the space around them, the short breaths fanning, finding purchase in thinning air, the enthusiastic smacks of pliant lips, the slithering of meeting tongues…all of it with a seeming inadvertent purpose of heightening that throb in the pit of her stomach to renewed senses and brimming the weightlessness in her chest until she finds herself so breathless she has to pull away.

Damn you air and your continued importance at staying alive…

Glazed turquoises eye her, sees only her, and that look of devotion in addition to sharp gasps exhaling from scarlet, wet lips…

Elsa shakes her head outwardly, shutting her eyes close in an attempt to pull herself together. When she looks back at her sister, she notes the upward turn of those lips and wants to kiss her again just to get rid of that smug look there.

"You almost burned breakfast." It doesn't sound much like a spurn when her voice is croaky and still so utterly breathless.

Anna's addictive, carefree laughter bounces in her ears, eyes twinkling in mirth. "You started it."

"Shall I end it then?"

"Nooooo…"

"But what about breakfast?"

"There's a way we can both eat without cooking anything."

Laughter breaks from her chest, the lewdness of the smaller girl with the added unapologetic grin adding to it.

This. This is what she was missing with her past relationships.

She hates comparing the two, because really, there's no comparison at all. Where there was strangeness, discomfort, and the powerful need to sever all ties as soon as the deed was done before, now there's endless warmth—an all encompassing desire to keep this girl around her at all times; to listen to her, speak with her, just to _be_ with her. Elsa's never felt that around any human being barring her family. It's hard enough for a stranger, classmate, or peer to even make her _smile_…Free laughter? Out of the question.

"You're impossible," she berates just as the mirth dies down, drawing a chuckle from the redhead as well. "Although something tells me we'll need actual food for the activity that you're implying and in the end, regardless of an all you can eat buffet, neither of us will actually be full."

"We won't know until we try."

The blonde pinches adorable cheeks, plants a small kiss on suddenly pouty lips before reaching around the smaller girl, reignites the gas stovetop and pulls the still hot pan atop the flames.

"Sorry for being a clear distraction," she says softly, picking up the tongs and placing it into a waiting hand. "We _do_ need to eat a tangible breakfast, so if you'd please continue and act like I'm not in the room."

"Pfft, impossible," Anna replies, grins wider, and continues her task. "I bought some oranges at the supermarket. You have a juicer?"

"Did dad stay the night on some of his visits and consequently spent the morning after and had breakfast before he left?"

"That would be a sarcastic yes…Which gets me asking…what do you think that was about? His obsession with fresh orange juice?"

"Something inherently dad that we'll never know, but will always remember."

Elsa smiles softly as she pulls the juicer from her appliance cupboard, remembering the first morning her father had spent the night at her condo and the sudden appearance of the small gadget.

"It's great, isn't it?" She looks over at her sister's warm countenance. "That there are just…things we can remember, just like that? Dad and his juicer."

"Mom and her facial creams."

"Dad and his aftershave."

"Mom and trying random noodle houses…regardless of the weather."

Elsa laughs, reminiscing many meals of this same instance. "Dad and his newspapers."

"Did you know mom bought him an iPad for his birthday a couple years back and he never used it?"

The whine of the juicer joins the noisy combination of the blower, the stovetop, and easy conversation.

"Did you know that dad bought mom some expensive French ablution cream thing that he thought was for humans but was actually a part of a pet grooming collection kit?"

Anna's infectious laughter joins the activity, Elsa's trailing soon after.

They exchange verbal knowledge of each of their parents, each one topping the next, as they set what will be breakfast ready. As the redhead begins frying a couple of eggs for the two of them, the taller girl puts in a few sweet rolls in the toaster, and not long after, they're enjoying the fruits of their labor on a messy dining table, Elsa's group project strewn on one end and the two of them sharing a rare clean corner, chairs impossibly close that they're legs and arms are touching—inseparable—one of the upsides, the blonde finds, to being a lefty to Anna's righty.

"What do you think they'd say if…"

Their conversation has turned to its impending goal, Elsa eyeing the orange juice to her left as the redhead's trailed question stays in the air between them. She pushes a bacon bit around in her plate for a while, eyebrows stitching in thought and concentration at procurement for an honest answer.

"What surprised me the most about either of them," she starts, "is when the shock settled—when they were able to bend their mind into the situation, there was no…disgust. As if…as if when presented with the problem, that's all that they had in mind. There was no ethical dilemma, no berates for my feelings, and certainly no guilt trips. They made it so easy to stay here all the while urging me to go back.

"I was afraid of my first talk with the two of them. Dad…surpassed all expectations. I…I was ready for him to kick me out of the house _that night_…" Elsa smiles sadly as she looks down at her half eaten plate, feeling Anna's hand rubbing the length of her leg in silent consolation while her mind conjures the picture of Alexander, hair in disarray as he pushes his fingers roughly through it and eyes in perpetual muted horror. "He said something that'll stay with me forever. I stayed up that night literally thinking nothing but those words—dissect them, analyze them…as I do about every little thing…" The redhead chuckles softly, her head leaning on the taller girl's arm and kissing her bicep thoughtlessly. "_'I don't believe in a world where love, in its most basic and pure form, should be something to apologize about.'"_

She can feel her sister's back straighten at those words, green-blue eyes widened at her in shock and wonder. The blonde smiles at her, automatically combing some errant burnish strands behind a wonderfully soft ear. "Mom was the same," she continues, gathering the other girl's hands in hers and kissing her knuckles before placing them in the warm space between them. "The first time she visited, she berated me for not telling her and relegating dad to telling the news, but other than that, she only listened. Nodded at the right times, spoke when the silence was too suffocating and the guilt and self-loathing was obvious…probably from my body language.

"They always plead me to come back home and face it. Year after year. They could've guilted me into coming back by telling me about your circumstances and…I would've. The first instance I'd have heard of your falling out or problems or general…depression…I would've booked the first flight available to see you. But they didn't. They wanted me to come back on my own terms—when I was ready. And you suffered for it."

A discontent growl erupts at the back of Anna's throat, her face falling into open chastise at what Elsa assumes to be her guilt face showing. She merely gives a helpless smile, receiving a firm, small kiss in the process. She nuzzles the warm face with her own, showering little kisses on smattered freckles on one cheek until it elicits a smile from the younger girl.

"Mom and dad would want us to be happy," she says resolutely, receiving an ardent nod from her sister. "Maybe they'd ask us to keep it as discreet as possible…and to probably be more sisters than lovers when in their presence…but from what I know of them and what they've openly showed me…they'd be understanding. They'd see that we're happy and to them…that's all that's ever mattered…so they won't take that away us."

The twinkle in eyes she's come to adore brightens, the smaller girl's hand breaking away from her grasp and encompassing her waist into a side hug that she returns wholeheartedly. They resume breakfast this way, thoughts of their parents and each other in the forefront of their minds while easy conversation passes in between.

O—O

"My flight is at two…and I want to do something for you before I leave."

Elsa's always loved the utter straightforwardness of her sister; there's no way anything can be misconstrued with a voice bearing so much clarity and assurance. Passing her a plate full of dish soap suds, the blonde can only look at her in question as she takes the proffered plate and rinse it off before putting it in a rack to air dry.

"And what is that?" she asks, playing along.

"There was an arts and crafts store next to the Sav-On."

"Mhmm, Hobby Lobby?"

"I already bought all the stuff you'd possibly need. I just need the brains behind the operation directing me."

The cryptic conversation has the blonde confusedly looking at her sister who merely grins her way easily.

"Elaborate?"

"Let's finish this and I'll show you instead."

"Showing versus telling's always nice."

"In more ways than one?"

"In more ways than one."

Anna chuckles, cupping some soap suds into a wet palm and wiping it against the blonde's cheek. Of course this incites a small water war, but after fifteen minutes Elsa gets an idea of what her sister's talking about.

"I'm finding more and more that we seem to be doing a lot of artsy stuff together," the blonde says as she looks into a couple plastic bags littering the foot of the model.

"Regardless of the fact that being artsy isn't your forte?"

"Indeed…but are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"As opposed to something funner?"

"Mmm…who knows when we'll see each other next?"

"Next week?"

Elsa sighs, her brows stitching as she gives her sister a knowing look. "We can't do this every week Anna…regardless of how nice it sounds."

The redhead follows her sigh, taking the bags from her and putting it atop the model before dumping the contents everywhere.

"Please say that you understand why," Elsa continues, giving her a pointed look.

"I understand it," the smaller girl says, her tone somewhat petulant. "Doesn't mean I agree with it."

"I know the distance is bad—

"It's gonna be even worse now—

"But we still have our outside lives to lead. Which brings me to our next issue—

"Something tells me I'm not going to like it…"

"Anna…"

Green-blue eyes look up at her, stoicism played to a tee that it almost hides the wonderful and open girl that she knows is beyond the nonchalant exterior.

"I think we need to…sit down and talk about…this."

"Talk about what, specifically?"

"All of it."

"I'm going to miss my flight and you'll still have a model with no environmental factors. Sounds like time _not_ well spent."

The blonde gathers the smaller girl by the waist, drags her in for a tight hug and notes minimally how she doesn't get a hug back.

She fights a groan clawing its way out of her chest and asks instead, "Why are you being difficult about this?"

"I'm not…" Anna grunts, sighing outwardly before landing a forehead on her shoulder. "It's hard not wanting to speak about all the impending problems when all we have is three hours…and all that's waiting for me in New York is distance, papers, homework, friends that are trying to hook me up with other girls, and worst of all…there's no _you._

"I don't want to talk about it…I understand. No PDA's—I messed up yesterday with your classmates here, but that was just…me seeing red—not thinking or…thinking but with the wrong body part. I get that we have to conceal all of this…indefinitely. I won't ever meet your classmates again so…yesterday…it won't be a big deal. They just saw you in a different light…as far as they know I'm just a random girl you're shacking with."

Before Elsa's quite aware of it her teeth are grinding against one another, jaw clamping in tandem and her hands gathering a warm face so she can stare at a hurt face unabashedly.

"While you and I both know that's _far_ from the truth," she starts, voice impossibly low, "What I want, in clear understanding between the two of us, is that this is not a normal relationship in any standards. Yes, we understand it…but do we _truly_ understand it? This…you're right…there's absolutely no PDAs. Maybe handholding or brief hugs, but that's as far as we're able to go _especially_ when we're around people that know us. We always, _always _have to be sisters, first and foremost. Behind closed doors, we can be whomever we want to be, but outside of it, we have to live by their rules. If I have to protect you by going as far as—god forbid—going out with another girl to hide this relationship—Anna!"

The smaller girl recoils away from her, head shaking in obvious disagreement.

"It was an example!"

"It's the worst example you could've come up with!"

"You really believe that I would want anyone else, but you after all this time? Now that I have you, I'd just relegate you as a side relationship just to fool the outside world?"

"Would you?"

"Clearly you don't know me enough."

"Yeah, being gone for five years will do that!"

Everything stops, and Elsa steps back as if physically slapped. She sees the horrified look on Anna's face as she gulps uneven breaths inward, her body taking her further, back into the kitchen and her arms coming up just under her stomach, fingers curling against each other. She notes minimally of the inadvertent defense mechanism she thinks she's gotten rid of, but here it is, alive and well. Her sister is at her side in record time, arms enveloping her waist as Anna stands in front of her, alike a roadblock, and keeping a firm grip on her body.

"You know I didn't mean that," the redhead says breathlessly, her tone helpless, apologetic, and, above all, scared.

The blonde draws in a steady breath to help calm her lancing heart. "It comes from somewhere," she replies with only half a mind available.

"Yes, the same place that vomited 'going out with other girls to fool the world'. Seriously Elsa…what the hell?"

"I meant it for you and not for me…"

"Which means…" Anna trails off before completely understanding the words, her face showing horrified realization.

The taller girl sighs, carding copper strands back with her fingers as she gives a defeated look to the now displeased girl. "If…if you get out of this…relatively unscathed, that's all that matters to me. If that means that some random girl can be your…public lover—

"Hell no." Turquoise eyes look back at her resolutely, lips pressing in a firm, straight line. "I swear, did you…did I get you _that_ tired last night that you didn't hear me while I was spilling my heart out?"

Elsa chuckles deprecatingly. "No…I…I heard and loved every word you said."

"You're totally not acting like it. I love you. We're in this together. We are _not…_I repeat…we are _not_ going to have another couple of random girls in this relationship. I refuse to share you and I don't want anyone else but you. I get the rules Elsa. I get it…okay? No PDAs and we're sisters to anyone else other than ourselves. I'll get my priorities straight. I'll go back to New York and I'll stay there like a good little girl. Can we please not fight? Not about this…I mean, it'll only get harder from here on out right? We're on each others' sides…why are we fighting about this?" And as an afterthought to the sudden rambling, "I only have three hours left! Two hours and…forty-eight minutes!"

The taller girl nods, holding Anna's face again and stepping closer to her. "Okay…yes. You're absolutely right."

"Not words I hear everyday…"

Elsa smiles helplessly, thumbs grazing over proud cheekbones. "No other girls…just you and me."

"I don't even get why that was an option to begin with…"

"A loophole…backdoor…just in case—

"How many times do I have to kiss you and drag you into your bedroom and have my way with you for that blonde mop of yours to understand that I'm _yours_?"

She seals anymore impending words with a rough kiss, Anna responding in sheer frustration, strong hands grasping the roots of her hair and pulling. She doesn't mind the pain—actually invites it.

The knowledge that Anna's right, that this is fleeting enters her mind again and pushes anymore of the unnecessary specifics out…for now. They'll get through it…They have to. As Anna proclaimed they have to be able to protect each other…and even though a part of her is unwilling to let the smaller girl take that much responsibility (because it's the blonde's, always and forever), the two of them have to be equally strong in order to weather any kind of storm that may come to pass. A rare optimistic thought flits through her mind that they might not have to come to that, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared, right?

She draws the lingering kiss to a close, a small nip placed on a lower lip before she opens her eyes to glimmering green-blues. The hardness is gone amidst the expressive orbs and this small fact gives her a bit of relief. She's unused to seeing anything but a carefree look upon her sister's countenance…any other extreme emotion seems wrong somehow.

The smaller girl grabs her arm and drags her back to the model, inciting work to start now or never. Elsa obliges, because that's what she does. She has a feeling she'll indulge Anna's every whim 'til the day she dies and overall that seems like a perfectly fruitful life.

They look at the physical and topographical maps that she had made the night before, overseeing the model board and directing the redhead as to what every portion would look like, Anna nodding at the right moments as her eyes searches through every corner.

After much deliberation, they begin with painting the entire surface an ocean blue color, the smaller girl setting to work thereafter by cutting styrofoam and foam boards to create the rough outline of the land and gluing molded foil into them to show the nuances and different levels of packed earth, terraces, and bluffs.

Elsa's not quite sure where she got the confidence a day before to tell her teammates she could do this…Maybe she wasn't thinking about how hard it actually is…but now that she's in the position and seeing just how hard her sister's working to make sure all her directions are followed, the ridiculousness of her wants and needs are showing in crystal clear clarity.

"If you tell me I don't have to do this _one more time_—

"You actually won't do it?" the blonde prods with a smile, brushing a combination of styrofoam boards and foil together with forest green paint. They've been at it for more than an hour and it finally feels as if her vision is coming into a reality.

She looks up just in time to see the smaller girl roll her eyes, loving the view of the redhead's body splayed carefully over the model as she paints the bluffs into the side near the castle's projected perimeter an artistic combination of white, brown, and green.

"You're sure you'll be able to keep the buildings in spot even though I make this into rocky terrain?" her sister asks instead, ignoring the jibe.

Elsa merely shrugs. "As I said, we're architects. We should be building into the land, not over it. Life isn't so convenient in the 1840's."

"You and your little details."

"It's a love-hate relationship…although now that I think about it, this is taking much longer than I want."

"Why? You had plans?"

"Yes, but they're all still in the relative confines of my house…"

Anna looks up to her, mischievous eyes twinkling and lips in a devilishly upturned smile. "Too bad this is gonna take the rest of my time here…but if I were to visit next week…"

"Anna…"

The redhead simply laughs. "Don't worry Elsa…I get it! You don't want me here."

"Oh, really?"

"So you can bring other girls in this relationship without me knowing…like that Hayley chick."

"Your imagination ran away with you on that one…Please don't blame me for your quickly drawn assumptions."

Green-blue eyes roll brattishly. "There was a girl half _naked_ walking around in your apartment…You mean to tell me that if you saw a girl half naked at our house you wouldn't go ballistic?"

"Which brings me to my next point…I spoke with Marie yesterday. I wanted to talk to you but you weren't answering your phone so speaking with Kai was going to be the next best thing. Imagine my surprise when she tells me that you had a _guest_ over and that she was _a relatively nice girl_."

A mortified blush rides up her sister's countenance, from her neck to the edge of her forehead, eyes refusing to look at the blonde's direction. Elsa chuckles at seeing such an innocent response.

"Which of your friends was trying to set you up?" she asks, setting her attention back onto painting the styrofoam while keeping her peripherals trained on the smaller girl.

"Jenna…" is the small answer.

The blonde's smile widens. "_Was_ she a relatively nice girl?"

Anna eyes narrow at her, causing a chuckle to erupt from her chest. "If you should know…she met the rare five out of five criteria."

The taller girl whistles into the air. "Five out of five? Wow…and her name?"

"…Terra."

"And was she actively trying to pursue you?"

"…yeah."

"You don't have to sound so hesitant in answering my questions, you know."

"My girlfriend is asking about a girl pursuing me when she was four thousand miles away…"

The label really does take her aback and she doesn't have to feign a surprised, "Is that what I am?"

Anna rolls her eyes again. "Apart from being my sister and a total jerk, yes."

The taller girl's face splits into a grin before the laughter commences, the redhead sighing loudly amidst the sound bouncing across the room. Elsa gets up from her spot on the floor and makes her way to the huffing girl, grabbing her by the waist and hugging her from behind.

"You're adorable."

"You didn't think that yesterday…If I wasn't so tunnel visioned at catching some girl in your apartment, I would've frozen over from your voicemail message."

The blonde searches her brain for what it could be, but it seems her sister isn't done.

"'Anna, call me when you get this'…_click._ Like…no 'Hello, I'm worried you haven't called, please call me back asap. Just… 'Call me _or else_'."

She smacks a rounded butt cheek causing an outward harassed yelp from the smaller girl. "The next time you decide to _visit_, you _will_ tell me ahead of time," Elsa growls into a hot ear, tightening her hold on Anna's waist and pushing their bodies inexplicably closer. "And not because of the _ridiculous_ notion that I'm housing some other girl in here. Why on Earth would I need another girl when you and I have been pretty much an item since I left?!"

"People get sexually frustrated!" the redhead exclaims hotly, giving her a pout after. "_My_ thought was we weren't…there wasn't anything yet. We were, but we weren't. We haven't spoke about it or anything. We were waiting 'til you got back to _really_ talk about it."

"And since we haven't spoken about it everything else was still fair play?"

"No…"

"Exactly. Because Anna…if…I swear to god, if I found out that you brought a girl home—regardless or maybe because of her being a five out of five criteria and…did some things together…that would not fly. It's not to say I would've said anything…I'd probably let it fester and rot in my brain for an indefinite period until it blows up into epic proportions that neither of us could withstand, but we…ever since you kissed me, that sealed it. Just so you know. It sealed it for me. If…if you wanted to act as if it was a trial period—if it was just to test the waters based on how _you _felt, fine! But you kissing me made that decision on my end. How you got into the conclusion that I would be sexually frustrated wanting you and bedding another girl because of it is utter…lunacy."

"'You're not tied to me'. You're exact words! How—

"YOU! _You!_ _You're_ not tied to me. You can…you can romp all the five out of fives in New York and _because_ we haven't formally decided anything, it would've been forgivable."

"Whereas if _you_ were the one to do it, it'd be _un_forgivable?"

"Yes…based on how you came stomping into my apartment yesterday with this 'Mine' attitude on full display…it would be completely unforgivable if I were the one to…cheat…"

The taller girl can see that it takes a moment for Anna to reel this in, but when she does, she's rubbing a heavy hand over her eyes, shaking her head at herself for this blatant wrongdoing. Elsa smiles warmly at the show of self-exasperation, kissing an open cheek just as her sister groans out loud.

"Why am I such a walking contradiction?" she bemoans loudly, causing the blonde to laugh and nuzzle a warm cheek some more.

"It was a simple misunderstanding that went completely out of hand," she says softly, hugging the other girl closer to her and loving how the smaller body caves in willingly. "Next time, let's talk about it before making hasty decisions. Do we have an agreement to that?"

Anna nods, sending a soft, apologetic smile that sends her heart fluttering. She looks at the clock hanging from a wall in the dining area and counts the minutes, then surveys the work they had accomplished within the allotted time frame. When she looks back at her sister, she can see they've both come to an agreed conclusion.

"You'll be able to finish the rest by yourself?" the redhead asks with a wide grin, body turning and arms coming around her neck to draw her closer.

"Yes," is the small, confident answer before the smaller girl pulls her in for a kiss.

Twenty-three minutes. That's enough time…right?

Elsa stops thinking—just focuses on the smaller body fit so snuggly against her own and at pliant, smooth lips she won't be able to feel or taste for another month. This distance thing is going to be even harder than before. She didn't think that was possible considering the hellish two weeks they've both just endured, but she knows…that was a cakewalk in comparison. She just hopes the two of them will last the month without breaking apart from the wide separation. It's easy to picture though…going back on her own words—be a hypocrite, booking a flight back to New York for the weekend to spend it with Anna regardless of how much of a bad idea it is in between homework, a finals group project, and other pending class assignments. It would be so sinfully easy…and she wouldn't care whatsoever if it damages her grades or her classmates'…

This girl rules her life. She finds she doesn't mind that at all.

O—O

"You think this part ever gets any easier?"

Elsa swallows the rough patch coating her throat before leaning her head into her sister's, swallowing her deeper in an already initiated side-hug.

"No," the blonde says softly, her head shaking infinitesimally. "But I hope it'll be the last time we have to do it."

Green-blue eyes look up at her, and regardless of the place they're in (inside her car in one of the many parking lots outside of LAX), she closes the small distance between the two of them and meets the smaller girl's lips with her own, branding this feeling and taste in her mind. She can feel Anna's grip on her waist tighten, the kiss growing with fervor and helplessness, and truly, does it ever get easier? Saying goodbye? Being so far away from someone you love?

She already knows the answer, but for the sake of the optimism that her sister brings out in her, she attempts to squelch the thought into a positive one.

This _will _be the last time. Neither she nor Anna can take any more of these goodbyes without damaging _something_.

They weather on through, as they're both used to, and within a couple more minutes, they separate, albeit slowly, hesitantly. Anna nuzzles into her neck a final time before breaking the half-hug and leaving the car from her respective side, the blonde following shortly after. It's silent between them barring the clicking of their footsteps in an otherwise empty parking garage, Elsa instinctively grabbing her sister's hand as they make their way across the skybridge into the second floor of the main portion of LAX.

The way she had left a couple of weeks prior bares a glaring resemblance to how they are today: tightly grasping hands, dragging silences, and the thought of the next four weeks in the forefront of each of their minds. But she can also feel the palpable difference between then and now. There seems to be a flittering hope today whereas despair and anguish loitered amongst them two weeks ago; a lightness in her chest versus the empty cavity ringing out the hollowness in resounding thuds in her ears.

They stand in front of a computer terminal and Anna grips her hand tighter as the smaller girl keys in her confirmation number in the touchpad screen before them—again so alike from when they were last in an airport only a complete role reversal. Elsa wonders briefly if it's possible to steal a kiss from the smaller girl this time around and finds she and hypocrisy may be too close friends at this point and time.

They're at the gate heading to customs in what seems like record time and the blonde hears and sees the sigh expelling from her sister as the redhead turns to her, gripping on the knapsack on her shoulders a bit too harshly. All around them are hurrying people, walking around them like a biblical sea parting. The irony isn't lost to the taller girl.

"I get home at around ten," Anna says softly in the small space between them, earning an understanding nod at her end. "I…I'll be busy during the week catching up on my finals so I'm heading to Kristoff's for my weekly session right when I land. I'll probably Skype you around eleven, at the earliest."

Elsa smiles openly, hoping it's enough to drown the helplessness she feels prickling in the corners of her eyes. "I'll be waiting."

It looks like Anna means to nod in reply, but instead her green-blue eyes dart just then and narrow at the random spot over the taller girl's right shoulder, and when she turns, she finds a couple sharing a long lip lock, causing an exasperated chuckle at her end. The unfairness of the situation is amusing to see from an outsider's perspective, but all she really wants is to erase the pout beginning to grace her sister's countenance.

"Come here."

She doesn't need to say anymore. She rarely has to when it comes to the redhead. She finds that they're so attuned to one another that silences come as easily as open conversations.

Her arms find themselves wrapped around hunched, caved-in shoulders, the smaller girl's hands enveloped tightly at the base of her back. The copper locks beckon to her so she answers the call with a strong swipe of her fingers, inhaling heavily as Anna's scent floats and lingers around them.

"Love you Elsa," the small voice proclaims softly over the general din of their surroundings, causing her to automatically push her sister's bangs away from her forehead and place a punctuated kiss on the wrinkled, but otherwise smooth skin. She looks down into saddened eyes, knows somehow that she's mirroring that expression to a tee.

"Love you too," she responds shortly, hands combing back an unruly mop of red hair. She should've braided them after…is an afterthought that just passes by. "Have a good flight. Try to get some rest during it. I'll talk to you tonight. Text me when you land just so I know you're safe." She says it like the list that it's become in her head.

She already misses the arms retracting away, but steadies her features, her fingers the only part rebellious enough to reach out habitually to touch a fleeting hand. Anna looks up at her, tragically beautiful with a too strong smile amidst deep frown lines, and Elsa has to use every ounce of effort tot keep her feet cemented to the ground while the smaller girl walks further and further away, still facing her, but carefully inspecting her surroundings so she doesn't bump into anyone.

The redhead puts up four fingers in front of her, saying loudly for everyone within the vicinity to hear including (and especially) her, "Four weeks!"

The taller girl makes a controlled effort to not laugh, but it comes out regardless in tandem to expressive, understanding nods. "Four weeks," she mouths softly into the air and she knows Anna's too far now to hear, but the smaller girl grins a thousand watt smile in her direction nonetheless.

"Love you Elsa!"

She can hear the snickers from surrounding passerby but maintain a cool facade even when her sister blows her one last exaggerated kiss with an open mouthed, unrepentant grin as she turns around and cuts through a corner, finally going completely out of sight.

The grin that she mirrors from the smaller girl falls away slowly, her feet perpetually glued to the ground as people weave and make their way around her. She's sure that she's looking completely ahead of her, but she can't put any shape or action in place…as if the world has lost all color and there's absolutely nothing she can do but stand there and be an unwilling participant.

The event of two weeks ago enters her mind again…at how difficult it was to be the one to walk away. Now that she's experiencing the opposite end of the spectrum she finds that being the one left behind feels so much worse. There's this feeling of utter helplessness dashed with a spoonful of insecurity.

The world goes on unhindered and she's just here…stuck…as if left behind.

The heaviness in her lungs makes every breath feel pronounced, but it's what tethers her back into reality and out of her suddenly brimming mind. She blinks once, twice, draws in a shaky, but heavy breath, and turns, lead heavy legs taking her out of the suffocating confines of the airport and further and further away from what (who) she feels gives her entire life meaning.

A childish part of her demands that they not do this. Who cares if she doesn't finish her degree in the most prestigious architecture school in the world? It's not like she needs it. Does she even _want_ it? Not the same way she wants Anna. And definitely not the same way she _needs_ Anna…

It's almost laughable that they have to be this far away from one another. Even more hilarious is the fact that this same time last month, this would be a non-issue.

But things change. And they have…for the better.

She needs to find the same girl that was telling her sister weeks ago that they have to do this…do the adult thing and get back to their lives because that would be the responsible thing. But that girl and the girl she is now is definitely not the same person. That girl had known longing and heartache, but not reciprocation.

Back to square one.

The drive home is empty and automatic. She's sure she got honked a lot for driving way below the speed limit, but finds she just doesn't care about anything else, but the cavity in her chest…as if a vital part of her has been stripped and there's nothing she can do to get it back.

It's strange how the world can lose its glimmer and wonder in the face of reality. A strong part of her wants to go home so she can relive every moment of the past twenty-four hours—imagining Anna in her kitchen, in her bed, in her shower. A just as strong part wants to postpone her inevitable return because the part that made her home the actual home it's always meant to be is gone, so now it's just an empty space.

Four walls and a roof.

The architect in her is laughing a maniacal laughter that echoes in the recesses of her brain.

She completely shuts it off: thinking. She's so good at diving into her mind it's a small wonder that she's ever able to take herself out of it.

Getting home in relative safety is a wonder in and of itself, and Elsa makes it a point to get to her condo as quickly as possible so she can immerse herself back into her work. The next eight or so hours while waiting for her sister's call or text is going to be long and winding and a distraction is what she needs the most at the present moment. She can only hope her brain doesn't multitask its way around to thinking of Anna all the way through it.

She sighs loudly as she steps out of the elevator, her hands unconsciously digging through her pockets for her keys and her body taking her to her destination robotically. Only when she hears her name being called does she look up, her face schooling itself into nonchalance and pushing the surprise out of the way.

"Kareem?" She means for it as a greet, but her tongue hasn't caught up to the rest of her yet, apparently.

He gives her brief nod and moves out of the doorway as she stands beside him, watching her insert the key and twist it before opening it wide enough for the two of them to enter.

"I texted you," he finally explains, causing her to reach into her other pocket for her phone and sees that, indeed, he did text her, asking if it was okay to work on their project today or if she was still…busy. "Couldn't get an answer so I thought coming over would be the next best thing. Wasn't here for very long…else I would've just left anyway…Wouldn't have wanted to intrude…" he trails off.

She nods understandingly and motions him inside, putting her keys in a bowl close to the door before going further in the cool abode. "I'm still not used to using my phone," she says warily, stuffing the device back into her jeans. "Sorry…but yes. I mean, no…I'm not…busy. So yes, we can work on the project."

He nods in between taking off his shoes at the entranceway and placing them in a designated shoe cubby. Elsa pays him little mind and moves over to the model, her smile coming back at the wondrous generosity Anna had left her prior to leaving.

Is there anyone in this world as selfless as her sister? The blonde highly doubts it.

She feels before she sees her classmate near her, finally standing so she can see him from her peripherals and hearing a sharp whistle emit from his lips as he stares down at a very different model he had left the day prior.

"Geez Elsa…" he mutters, a finger coming up to brush the realistic bluffs and terraces jutting out and proudly and almond eyes grazing through painted shimmering waters. "Thought you said art wasn't your forte? If this isn't a forte, I'm kind of afraid to see what you'd classify a forte as…"

Elsa bites back a chuckle and instead smirks pronouncedly. "Anna helped me make it," she says softly, her own gaze going through everything—every effort, every time spent, each swish of a thorough brush and deliberate cut of a styrofoam—and feeling gratefulness borne with so much pride. She wants to say her sister did it…because truly, she did…but the blonde kills the words as they bubble in her chest. "She's an art major…" She's not quite sure why she added that in, but she surmises it's just her brain and heart agreeing with one thing (such a rare occurrence) and that is they miss her with every ounce of their being and talking about her out loud is just a form of validation…that she and Anna are together…that the smaller girl made this not because she needed help or anything like that, but because the redhead wanted to. Just…wanted to. Simple. Easy. No ulterior motives. Simply…Anna.

She truly is one of a kind.

Kareem nods, but she isn't paying attention.

"Where are the others?" she asks instead, her eyes going back to the door as if it'll open in its own volition after her query.

"I told them that we'll meet up at four."

She looks up at the clock that read barely three and then looks back at almond eyes gazing at her almost concentratedly. "Would you like me to remedy that and ask them to come sooner?" she asks although she already knows the answer.

He only smiles back at her, leaning over the edge of the model's perimeter with his long bronze arms casually. "Art major…" he says softly, eyes dragging back to the dips of land and cliffs. "NYU? Or…Columbia?" He shakes his head in disagreement just as her stomach plummets into unknown depths. "Has to be NYU!" he exclaims, his eyes going back to her. "Your dad went to NYU, right? NYU School of Law?"

She steps back automatically, her throat and mouth drying up and her heart thudding frantic palpitations in her eardrums. Her mind is running a mile a minute, disbelief coursing through every word coming out of her classmate's mouth. She only has half a mind to shake her head. In refute? In disagreement? She's not sure. All she knows is she needs time…and space.

A silent mantra keeps repeating in her buzzing brain: she can't be hearing this properly.

Kareem maintains his spot beside the model, his eyes still boring holes into her and his expression showing blatant thinking…as if he's a child, trying to piece a puzzle together that he already knows the answer to. "No…your dad didn't go to NYU?" he asks, and they both know it's not really a question. He straightens up, puts his hands in his pockets and from his height he seems almost…intimidating. "Because my dad went to NYU…" he continues, walking towards her deliberately slowly. "After graduation he…he became an associate at Blake Shelton and Zhang. That was right around the time your dad became a senior partner in the same firm…if my memory serves me correctly. My dad…he…he _really_ looked up to your father. Was kinda sad when Mr. Andersen decided to make a career change to being a state judge, but didn't fault him for it."

Three feet separate them, the air thinning around her more and more. She tries to breathe, but the block lodged in her throat makes it impossible. She tries to grasp for any rational retort, but comes up empty handed. Her tongue feels heavy in her arid mouth and every part of her is gathering up the courage to do one of two options when backed against the wall: fight or flight?

"Two years ago, my dad became senior partner at Blake Shelton and Zhang," Kareem continues, stopping at the two feet mark and staring down at her seriously. "Your dad…I'm not sure if you know, but regardless of him leaving, he was still pretty close to the company. I'm sure if there had been any legal squabbles, they'd be his representative and that says a lot. He was actually quite communicative with my dad even after he left. Anyway, when my dad became senior partner, they threw him this lavish party during Christmas. It was winter break so of course I was at home back in New York and my dad brought the entire family to the event. In that five hour timeframe, I got to meet your dad, your mom, and your sister…Anna."

Elsa has the biggest urge to throw up, and she finds she can no longer lock eyes with the tall boy, her gaze falling into the ground between them.

"She probably doesn't remember me," he says airily, continuing the monologue that would inevitably annihilate her way of living. "She didn't seem like she wanted to be there…not that I could blame her. After trying out all the expensive food, listening to the inane chatter seemed like you were paying for your meal tenfold. Anna had a good idea though. She just…left. I wish I could've just done that…"

"What do you want?" Her voice comes out rugged in her ears…aggressive. She looks back up, pins her eyes on almonds that widen almost infinitesimally at her sudden demeanor and searches her classmate's face for something—an ulterior motive, a wicked plan. _Something._ "What do you want Kareem?" she asks again when silence greets her half-question, half-demand.

Her hands have balled into inadvertent fists, nails leaving indentations she can't feel in her palms. The fact that her body is shaking uncontrollably doesn't even faze her. Only one thing grazes her mind: she'll protect Anna. It doesn't matter what happens to her in this situation…the only important thing is that her sister remains unscathed.

Unexpectedly enough, the tall boy's hands suddenly come up in front of him in a definite passive manner, his eyes widening by each passing second and now _he's_ the one backing up, three steps, five…until about seven or eight feet separate them. For some reason, this small action makes the air breathable again.

"Shit Elsa…" he curses under his breath, shaking his head and remorse splashing on his visage. "I…didn't mean to come off…aggressive…or anything," he says slowly, hand coming up to his hair to scratch the back of his head. "Informative…maybe, but…_shit…_Can…can we start this whole thing over?"

Her own fingers are coming out of a strained fist, her index finger and thumb coming up to her eyes and squeezing the throb beginning to pulse from the constant frown that's found its home there since this conversation began.

"What is it that you want Kareem?" she asks again, only this time an octave softer…with an edge of control.

The young man's mouth opens, then closes, as if finding purchase in words that seem to have disappeared when moments ago they were in mass abundance. "I just…I just wanted you to know…that I know," he says and adds a shrug as if it really is that simple. "I mean…shit Elsa…if I wanted something bad to happen I could've as easily asked everyone to come in early and witness this, right? Ben…fuck, that guy would have a field day."

Just the thought of everyone knowing would blow everything out of the water…

Elsa breathes the shallow air. Finding her legs are losing strength she looks behind her, sees that her work table chair is just a couple feet away and crumple into it, both palms coming up to rub the stress from her face and thumbs working deep circles into both temples.

"Yesterday…you…you remember what I said, right?"

She looks back up to him as he stands uneasily in the middle of the still haphazard room, almond eyes gazing at her with a mix of wariness and consternation.

"It doesn't matter…truly," he continues, licking his lips in afterthought. "As you said…it's your life and it's private information, therefore no one else has any claim to it."

"Then why bring this up?" she ask stonily, eyes locking with his morosely. "Why bring this up unless it's something you can use as leverage?"

"I wish you'd stop thinking everyone's like that when only a handful of people want to see the world burn."

"The world I live in and the one you're in are quite different. Mine could be burning while yours can have sunshine and rainbows. Still doesn't mean we're not in the same place."

He breathes a heavy inhale, fingers coming up to scratch the back of his head once more as he gives her a serious look. It seems he's come up with a viable answer. "Regardless," he continues, voice hard and insistent. "There's…there's no ulterior motive Elsa. I…I have no idea how I can prove that to you. I wanted you to know that I know. I knew ever since you opened the door yesterday and Anna was standing right next to you. I didn't say anything to our classmates then and I won't say anything until _you_ decide to. And since this is a secret that is best left buried, that's how it'll stay.

"I…There's talk in the classroom that you've turned down AECOM and Populous. Can I get your confirmation on that?"

The sudden turn in conversation leads the blonde somewhat confused, but she doesn't show it outwardly. She just nods, assuming nonchalance until she can get a good, clear ground as to where this whole thing is going and she can control it with every ounce of her ability.

"I'll be going back to New York after the end of term," she says simply.

"Have you looked at any internship opportunities there?"

She wants to pull her hair in utter frustration, but stops herself. She only shakes her head in disagreement. "Been too busy to even begin."

He nods in assumed understanding, his gaze falling to the balcony and the currently atrocious sizzling day outside. "My mom has an architectural firm," he says shortly. "Bartam and Singh. That's where I'll be doing my internships after. Like I said before, my dad…he really did respect your father. As far as I know my mom got to know Mr. Andersen in association back when my dad was still a junior associate of sorts to for him and they got to be pretty good friends from then—allies at the very least.

"They've known that we've shared the same graduating class for the longest time. From the start they've asked me extend an invitation for you to fulfill your externship hours at my mom's company. After…after your parents' accident, they've pretty much forced my hand to ask you to at least consider it. You won't need an interview or anything like that. I've…I can vouch for your work ethic and study habits far better than any length of an interview can. If nothing else, you're…you're brilliant. You'd be a wonderful asset…even if you'd choose not to join the firm after…considering my mom and her partner would probably want to hire you at the culmination of it."

Elsa's gaze falls to the ground beneath her, her hand still rubbing rough circles along her forehead, eyes, and temples. This conversation has certainly turned into a street she would never, in her life, expect.

"Elsa…"

She looks up, a reflex to being called upon and watches him warily as he makes his way towards her.

"Can I…Can I sit down? Like…next to you. Not looking down at you or anything? Can we just…sit and talk?"

Her jaw clamps, anger at herself and the situation filling her overworked mind, but she's able to nod nonetheless, willing to let this go on if it means continued silence on her classmate's end.

Kareem pulls the chair Haley had occupied the night prior and sits, elbows placed on both thighs and eyeing her warily.

A question that's been buzzing in her brain since the too open invitation flies out of her mouth, and she remains unapologetic because she's never one to beat around the bush especially or maybe because of this dire situation that's been placed upon her and, more importantly, Anna. "Is this an ultimatum?"

Almond eyes widen first, followed by the high rise of black eyebrows and vigorous, vehement shakes of a head. "No! Elsa…no!" He's the one rubbing his face now, exasperation ebbing through sheer body language. "Can…can we forget that I know about you and Anna for a second?"

"I can't forget it if that's all that's important to me." She sees that he's genuinely taken aback by the hardness of her words, but maintains direct eye contact with him. "You knowing this can end everything. Let's…stop pretending that it's not important because it is. You wouldn't have brought it up otherwise. In the end all I care about is Anna's wellbeing. If you tell me your silence costs an internship at your mother's company then so be it. If it's only a start of many things to come, fine. Leave Anna out of it and I'll do everything willingly—

"Will you stop?!"

She does, but only because of such a violent outburst and just as angry countenance from her usually calm peer. He stands up again, pacing in the small space between them.

"I shouldn't have said anything," he mutters, mostly to himself, but loud enough for her to hear it upon strained ears. "So stupid…of course she'd tunnel vision on it…" He sighs loudly, stops just as abruptly, and turns to her, expression direly solemn. "This wasn't an ultimatum," he says evenly, as if speaking to a child. "Telling you I know about you and your sister wasn't a start to a threat. I'm not…will you get it out of your head that everyone is against you? For once…can you please treat another peer like…a _peer_—a classmate? Not competition. Not a stepping stone towards another goal—just…" He stops and breathes another steady intake of air as his face falls to helplessness. "Look Elsa…we've been sharing a classroom together for four years. You have a target on your back as the best. I get it. But you're looking at this all wrong. I stayed up last night _planning_ on telling you that I know with the end result of you acknowledging that it's a non-issue, but apparently it came out all wrong. You said it best. It's your life. It's your business. It has nothing to do with me, therefore it shouldn't matter. It _doesn't._ It's a moot point and frankly, I don't give a shit if you and your sister are shacking. I'm going to put that out there right now to hopefully abstain you from any more of this nonsense.

"My parents asked me to extend an invitation to Bartam and Singh for the duration of your internship. My mom figured that after your parents' unforeseen deaths that you'd want to come home as quickly as term's end and would unwillingly give up any and all internship opportunities here. Her firm is no AECOM or Populous, but it is a legitimately good company with good standings and history in New York's economy. She genuinely wants to help. _I_ genuinely want to help. You've been dealt a shit hand and you're…you're fucking brilliant. You can have any company you want here. You can probably have any internship you want there…but this is an extending of an olive branch…if you'd like to look at it that way. My parents adored the Andersens. If you could even _consider _this, they'd probably feel less indebted somehow…even though I have no idea why they'd feel this way in the first place."

He's breathing heavily by the end of his long tirade, and she can only swallow back the shame and rough patch currently riding her throat, his words ricocheting in the walls of her mind.

"Please think it over. I don't expect an answer today. I don't expect a positive answer at all to be honest…but the invitation's there…if you'd take it." He gives her another searching gaze, looking as if he wants to add more, but in the end deciding not to with a pronounced shake of the head. "I'm gonna text the others that we're meeting early." He looks away, towards the model for a brief moment, and then gives her a small, weak smile. "Tell Anna thank you…for what she did to the model. Apparently sheer brilliance runs in the family…"

She can't answer back. She finds that she's lost all semblance of speech. All that buzzes in her mind is that someone knows. She's heard of the expression that the world is a small place, but hasn't experienced its precise meaning until this very day.

Small and getting smaller…

What can she do? How can she control this? How can she protect Anna if this all blows to hell? The quick and easy answer leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

She can't.

It's not in her power or control. It's not up to her. In the end she can only trust her classmate's words. As a person with good judge of character, she can't see any outward malice. Kareem seems genuinely indifferent about…her secret. But it doesn't help that she has zero leverage. One wrong sentence and everything could be upended. One disagreement could lead into Anna's life falling apart…and that end result is not something she's ever willing to compromise.

His footsteps gather her attention, and she eyes him pocketing his phone before giving her a nonchalant look. "They'll be here between fifteen minutes and a half an hour."

She doesn't care about that.

"How do I know you'll keep your word?" She can feel her lips setting in a firm line, brows notched impossibly deep, but she can't hold back the dilemma trying to claw its way out of her chest.

He merely gives her another helpless smile. "You don't," he shrugs, his clear voice resounding in the silent room. "You'll just have to learn how to trust me."

She swallows audibly, not liking the answer one bit.

O—O—O

Anna's quite sure of one thing: no one really gets a decent rest while traveling in a plane. It's an impossibility. It doesn't matter that the seats are heated and leather and that the hot towels and free drinks are in abundance. _No one _can get a decent hour's rest in a plane. Not even the guy a seat behind her snoring as loudly as the jet's turbines.

She sighs, the sound drowned out easily by the surrounding noise. Looking up at the screen before her that shows there's just a bit of an hour left before touchdown, she puts her noise canceler ear buds back on and mutes everything around her. She leans forward, turns off the screen, and directs her attention to the darkness outside. She can't see anything. No stars. No clouds. No land. Just a reflection of herself that seems off somehow.

It feels as if she's just waking up from a lovely dream and every mile separating her and Elsa becomes the metaphorical nudge and pull at her shoulders to open her eyes and address reality.

She wishes like a naive child to keep sleeping, but if her sister's taught her anything, it's that reality needs to be addressed. They're not children anymore, even if she wishes to go back to those carefree days. Even then, she wouldn't have Elsa as she has her now if she were to go back…and that option, in and of itself, is really no option at all.

The last five years comes back, as they're wont do when she's given the time to contemplate the universe. It doesn't come very often: being forced to just sit and think. Being stuck in a flying contraption does that though. Unlike forty-eight hours prior, when she had been stuck in this exact same position albeit flying to her sister instead of away, her thoughts weren't very collected. On the contrary they were scattered bordering murderous; whoever she saw in that webcam was going to have a rude awakening.

She and jealousy aren't very familiar friends. Sure she's felt the cold grips of that relentless mistress before, but not the way it had seized her just a couple days prior. Thinking had been _impossible_…as if there was no room left for anything but what awaited her, what she would do, what she would say, how she would act.

And really, that was the problem of the matter, right? Her innate ability to act first and think later?

_Well, here's the opportunity_, her mind seems to say in a mocking way, causing an outward eye roll to herself that no one else can see.

Addressing reality and all its forms…

_"__Are you sure?"_

Elsa's voice filters through her mind again, light blue eyes gazing at her in absolute reverence.

Anna had promised herself six weeks to think of her feelings for her sister. She felt any less time than that and she would be jumping the gun as she's done in relationships prior. As she had mentioned to Kristoff, this isn't something she's willing to do—Elsa's feelings are more important to her than some random girl that may or may not last more than one night, one week, or one month. There's certainly more at stake considering this is her _sister._ But really, if she were to be completely honest, that aspect feels like the most minor detail of her decision making. It really has no bearing at all. Is it a sheltered thought? Yes…but it's not as if either of them are hurting anyone else by loving one another…

She focuses on it…this one aspect that feels like a ridiculous roadblock. Why is it looked down upon? Morally…biblically…sharing a bed with a relative is sinful…wrong. There's an even bigger dilemma when there's inbreeding involved and even more-so for guardian to ward relationships—_huge_ age differences where an outsider can't help, but feel that there may or may have been statutory rape, jailbait, nonconsensual sex—_all_ _illegal_ bearings—involved…all of which make this the taboo topic that it is. None of which applies to her or Elsa.

They're both well over the legal adult age. There's zero chance they could reproduce considering they're missing a vital reproductive system. They're both quite aware of the relationship—_everything is consensual, _and, as naive as it sounds, there's love involved. Actual love. Not just lust, even though that barrier is easily and frequently crossed enough, but straightforward, unadulterated _love_.

It's not the first time the unfairness of their situation strikes the smaller girl. How can something that feels so right have to be relegated behind closed doors? And of course she's not implying the sex. That aspect in any relationship _should _be kept private. It's the little things…the parts Elsa was drilling in to her stubborn head not very many hours back. Because she doesn't want to keep what they have a dirty little secret. It's _not_. And she's quite adamant of that. Elsa's not a secret she's willing to hide away from the world because it's convenient for _them._ She wants to be able to kiss her goodbye before boarding a plane. She wants to keep her close and hold her hands while they're walking to a destination. How is it possible to live in a world where acceptance for any form of _love_ is not just hard, but looked down upon? The utter stupidity of the question is enough to drive her to insanity. The fact that it has _nothing_ to do with anyone else is just adding salt to the wound.

She draws in a deep breath, the stifling confines of the plane making the air feel thinner than it actually is. She flags a stewardess, asks for some water, and gulps it down as soon as it's handed to her.

Leaning into the leather seat, her eyes lock onto the ceiling: the space in between the call button and the personal nightlight. She thinks back to the two weeks and the kiss that preceded it, wanting more than anything to gather her thoughts and push away the frustration from her earlier musings.

And yet another case to the ever growing pile of evidence that she acts before she thinks.

The kiss.

It wasn't planned. She didn't wake up that morning thinking she'd try her best to make it as difficult as possible for the older girl to leave. She just wanted to prolong their time together because they were both quite aware of how minimal it was, and shrinking by the literal second. Each minute that passed felt like the return of the shadow that had been a constant companion the last five years, its grip on her heart so viselike and familiar that it could do nothing more to scare her than just be there.

Her tether to sanity was leaving. Her only tangible source of happiness was going away…again. So of course, with perfect timing, the last five years of emptiness refreshed itself in her mind.

It didn't matter that her parents had been there to catch her as she was falling at breakneck speed straight into impending disaster. It mattered even less that many of her classmates expressed her changes, some quite vocally and others with more tact. All that was apparent to her was the one constant of her life, since her very first _memory_, has all but erased herself from her life, with nary an explanation or word. More than the void, that had stung the most.

Elsa, her constant, was gone. She had lost her best friend and sister and wasn't even given the opportunity to fight for it. Because _of course_ she would fight! Tooth and nail—with every part of her being. She would convince the older girl that shutting her out was the worst idea in the world and that open communication trumped broken silences.

And she knows…a part of her is so sure…that if Elsa had confessed her not so sisterly feelings five years ago that they'd be in the same situation now, albeit with less heartbreak. There's absolutely nothing the older girl can do to make Anna look at her in a different light. It's impossible for her vision to be tainted when Elsa was, and always will be, the perfect older sister. The redhead's childhood memories are brimming with the blonde: the bickers, the laughter, the fights, the adoration. As with everything, it's easier to see it all in retrospect. During their childhood she couldn't see that Elsa had always looked after her—protected her in the ways only an older sibling can. She couldn't see that the blonde always put her wants first and foremost, fulfilled every fancy and passing whim with sometimes just a small word of caution.

Anna's sure she fell in love with her sister even before she was quite aware of it—even before the taller girl left for college. That stupid saying that you don't know what you have until you lose it…It feels like the hallmark motto of her life. They were close. Closer than any siblings she'd ever seen, yet it never dawned on her the whys. It was normal…just…normal. If she had been told she was hurting Elsa in the matter of non-reciprocation, the only other justifiable answer would be to reciprocate with every part of her being. Because hurting Elsa is not an option. She'd rather give up on the world than the one person who has never given up on her.

Less importantly, but also worth noting is the ever present thought of how reciprocation would feel like. She knows emotionally that nothing would change. Elsa loves her and she loves the taller girl with just as much ferocity. Physically though…

It was really the only way to get a clear and definite answer. How would her body feel in the midst of a kiss? She had the strongest feeling she wouldn't back away from it…On the contrary, just the mere thought of it was enough to spike the helplessness out from her chest only to be replaced with nagging curiosity and excitement.

These thoughts plagued her all the way to the airport that morning: a cracked dam that's grown tired of keeping everything back. Six weeks to think it through? Laughable. All she needed was to be in a win it all or lose it all situation to open her eyes to the blatant obviousness staring at her in the face. And of course no words are available. Of course they wouldn't come to her aid even in the form of rambling gibberish. And of course…_of course_ it had to be like some stupid romcom where they're a bit late for Elsa's domestic flight and some disembodied voice has to call her name through the speakers to get her further away faster from the smaller girl than was already being painfully permitted.

And Anna couldn't let her go…not without letting her know…so she did. Articulateness flew through the window since they woke up, so words were as unavailable as refreshing water in the desert. Action then…because it always spoke louder than words.

Did she think it through before actually doing it? Of course not. She wouldn't be Anna if she thought of the consequences prior to the action…And it had been worth it. The kiss said everything she wanted to say without her having to do it. What she didn't bank on was that the reciprocation was _heady_. Up until that point in time, it didn't really cross her mind how _much_ Elsa's wanted her. Oh they've spoken about it, and she's seen first hand the desire and lust clouding ever present light blue eyes, but it didn't click until that very moment when all she could taste was desperation coated with so much longing. Her feelings felt utterly small in comparison—a blip in the middle of a raging storm. But that was okay…because after the six weeks, they could explore and be frank with one another, and in due time, she'll match how much Elsa loves her to a tee.

She'd made her decision that morning in the midst of calming her racing heart and watching the most important person in her life leave her again.

A significant part of her wanted to talk to her sister about it. The kiss…as they both so eloquently titled the event. But even she knew when something was serious enough to merit a face to face talk rather than through a phone call or even Skype. So…it was formally decided for them to do so at the culmination of their six week separation. She also had an inkling Elsa planned this so that the smaller girl could still break away if she wanted to…as if it was a spur of the moment mistake that they can just sweep under the rug—no harm, no foul.

What the blonde does and decides always goes back to her. This recurring theme is both a relief and an annoyance because it fights the very nature of law when it comes to how she thinks her sister would act.

Elsa would act as if the kiss didn't happen if, in the end, it benefited the redhead in some form or another. If, for some reason (even though she started it), Anna decides to back away in the last minute, the blonde would give her that. If she wants to romp all the five out of fives in New York, apparently that's fine, so long as Anna's happy. If bringing another girl in the relationship makes things easier for her (and never for Elsa)…it can happen. This double standard—that it's okay so long as she's happy, doesn't sit well with the smaller girl. She just hopes that in due time, the blonde would see that her happiness has a direct line to her sister's…and if one of them is unhappy for one reason or another, then the other is just as affected. There's no gray area. At least there shouldn't be. It's preposterous to think that she'd want someone else like the older girl while already being with her. She'd see red if some other knock off were to suddenly replace her as a public lover in Elsa's life…there's no difference if it was turned the other way around.

Together. Just the two of them. She wonders if this is imbedded in her sister's mind now after their talk or if the thought still lingers there…as a backup safety precaution to be used for her own benefit, but never Elsa's. The smaller girl figures she'll just have to jackhammer the thought process into the blonde's head until it finally sticks. God knows both of them can be super stubborn in any differing opinion, the apple not falling far from the tree and all.

"Ladies and gentlemen we are fifteen minutes away from JFK International Airport…"

She lets the pilot's voice pass over her head, too unimportant to listen and assimilate the words amidst the storm of thoughts already filled to the brim in her busy mind. She takes her phone out of airport mode, texts Elsa first of her impending landing and promising a Skype call at eleven on the dot. Currently it's nearing nine and she isn't planning on staying at Kristoff's for longer than necessary. A voicemail she's expecting from Kai confirms that he's done as she's asked two days prior: leave her motorcycle parked in one of the lots and leave the keys, helmet, and a jacket in a designated locker in the airport for her to fish out when she lands.

Thirty minutes later has her in front of a familiar door, rapping on its wooden surface in a musical beat and hearing the footsteps approaching before the pull of the door.

"Hey, hey!"

The familiar welcoming greet pulls her lips into an easy smile, Kristoff making room for her as she passes the threshold.

"Hey yourself," she replies, looking forward and giving a small wave to Sven who's currently on the recliner, watching television. "Evening Sven."

"Hey Anna," he greets, taking a swig of a bottle of beer clasped in his hand while giving her a nod. The dim lighting of the living-room makes his dark brown hair look closer to black, the sweatpants and white t-shirt he's adorning leaving him looking quite at home.

"How's residency?" she asks conversationally, walking just behind the sofa and leaning on it casually with Kristoff at her side.

"It's _brutal_," he groans, his free hand coming upon brown eyes and squeezing them tiredly. "I'm on-call these next two weeks…You wouldn't believe how many dental emergencies there are in the middle of the night. Yesterday, there was this woman who fell…down her stairs or something—sounds like a domestic dispute honestly, but anyway…she broke her jaw and her teeth got _wedged_ into her _gums_—

"Alright!" she cuts off quickly enough, sending the two brothers into an easy chuckle. "I'll…listen to you scary stories some other time…"

"I'm going to make you abide to that raincheck," Sven retorts with an exaggerated wink, and toasts his beer up in the air as a sign of goodwill.

She grins at him before looking over to Kristoff who wordlessly nods her to the direction of his office. Walking ahead of him, she makes her way to the already lit room and proceeds to sit on one of the plush armchairs, watching the blond close the door behind him before taking his spot right next to her.

"Ah crap. Forgot…" he mutters, getting up simultaneously. "Water? Coke? Beer—no, not beer…"

Anna laughs and waves her hand dismissively. "None. I…kind of want to go home as soon as possible."

"Yeeesh! Still smitten I see. You'd think after Skyping with Elsa the whole weekend—

"I was in LA the whole weekend."

Brown eyes widen at the sudden cut off, but more importantly what she just said. "Planned?"

"Definitely not."

He sighs before motioning for her to continue wordlessly.

She laughs, somewhat embarrassed now that she knows the whole story and has to retell it, but she does regardless starting with Friday night, at being forced to go to a party that she could care less about, at being set up with a girl she could care even less about, at how introspective she's been in regards to her present self versus her past self, and most importantly the growing frustration that culminated to a quick decision that had nothing to do with thinking and more doing.

"You couldn't have just called her?"

"I saw red Kristoff," she mutters, eyes looking over her nail beds in what she hopes looks to be a nonchalant manner. "All my mind kept feeding me was that Elsa and I weren't really together and she's not in the wrong if there's some random chick in her apartment. Still didn't stop me from getting riled up and making me unnecessarily angry…"

"Because it's not like she belonged to you."

"Yes."

"And going there personally would alleviate that?"

"It did when I made out with Elsa in front of the chick in her house."

The small slap from Kristoff's palm to his face resounded across the quiet room in tandem to his loud groan. "Anna…"

She couldn't help but chuckle at the exasperation coating his voice. "Yeah?"

"What…" He stops, centers himself, and looks at her quite seriously. "What happened to thinking it over? Giving it the next several weeks to stew over your emotions and—

"I'm sure of what I want."

There must be something in her expression or the tone of her voice because he only looks at her with still pursed lips before leaning back into his armchair and nodding at her to continue.

"I…you _know everything _Kristoff," she starts, her gaze falling to the darkened window that shows absolutely nothing of the world outside. It's just like looking outside from the plane all over again. "You know what these last two weeks has taught me, if anything? The same lesson the last five years has drilled into my head. I don't care if it's unhealthy or doesn't sound right. Life without Elsa isn't a life worth living. You know what the weirdest thing is? This point is even more punctuated _now_. Not in the first year of that dreaded time period or the jaded portion when I wanted to hate her, but I couldn't. _Now. Today. _Even when I see and talk to her everyday it doesn't feel enough. Even when I know she makes time for me and only me…I just end up wanting more. The only time my mind wasn't constantly thinking that was during the last two days, but that was only because I was with her.

"It's such a strange phenomenon." She feels her voice getting quieter with each word, but knows without having to look at her friend that he's able to hear and is listening quite intently to everything she's saying. "Like…without her I'm this free form. And this seems like a really good thing. I'm free. I can be whomever I want to be. I can go where I please and I can do what I want. But at the end of the day…I'm not tethered to her, so the freedom means absolutely nothing. And people would think, maybe it doesn't have to be her…but it does. She's the constant. She's always been the constant. She was there through every portion of my less than stellar life and I didn't realize how much she was giving me until she couldn't give anymore without something from within herself giving out."

She looks back towards thoughtful brown eyes, staring at her with utmost concentration. "In your most honest opinion—now that you've met her and she's more than a one dimensional character built up from my complaints, frustrations, and elations…Do you think there's anyone in this world who can love me like she does? And likewise, do you think it's possible for me to find someone who can make me feel even an ounce of what she can incite with just one _look_?"

Kristoff's tongue darts out to rewet dry lips, a heavy hand coming up to brush his bangs back. "That's a hard question Anna…"

The redhead shrugs, the answer in her mind quick and simple. "Me not finding someone to fill the void isn't for the lack of trying. You, me, and that overfilled green binder is a testament to that. Terra…fit all of the criteria and she would've been perfect if I just wanted a shadow of who Elsa is. But I don't want a shadow. The last five years have been nothing but meaningless shadows. I don't want someone like her. I want her. I don't know why it's taken me this long to figure this out. I don't know why she and I had to hurt so much to arrive to such a simple solution that absolves all our problems.

"Freedom is overrated. I don't want it if it means not having her to fall back into. I'd rather lose all my freedom and be connected to her the way we are now than go back to being just her sister. It goes in the same vein as that whole 'eating the forbidden fruit' thing. I know what I've been missing, I can't turn back, and I don't want to. I don't want to change anything…except the distance. I want her here…or me there. I don't care which one, so long as she's beside me and not across internet or phone lines.

"It doesn't take six weeks to get to this conclusion. It's been pretty much decided when Elsa confessed her feelings…it was just a matter of time for me to finally get on the same page."

It's silent in the room so she hears the audible swallow that her friend makes after her tell-all, and she can't help but chuckle lowly and helplessly at such an ominous sound.

"Has my decision changed your opinion of me?" She doesn't take the question back, but it doesn't alleviate the sudden gnawing pit in the bottom of her stomach.

Brown eyes roll in exasperation. "Don't be stupid," he scoffs, sending her chuckle to transform into a free laugh and the gaping hole to disappear. He shares a crooked smile. "If you were in my shoes and was able to see yourself speak about Elsa, your current decision would've been the most clear and obvious one," he says with a knowing smirk taking Anna somewhat aback. "I've heard you speak about countless girls Anna. Most of them are flattering, but there's always something lacking. As you said…freedom without a tether. Even when you were with Jenna, it was palpable. Like…you already knew what you wanted, but you wanted to knock all the possibilities out of the water first before actually setting the decision to stone. Again, because this is Elsa it's important that you think not only about yourself, but her own well-being. And it's not to say you didn't care about your past partners, but you didn't care about them this deeply. Makes sense…they're not your sister. But at the end of the day, you and I both know it's not even that. That's merely a title. If she were just any other girl who's been a constant in your life…like a childhood best-friend—

"I would've courted her when I was in middle school."

Kristoff laughs, nodding in guffawing agreement. "You would've put a ring on it—

"In middle school."

She grins as his laughter doubles, a small part of her flashing in relief that her best-friend who also happens to be her therapist isn't just accepting of this insanely unacceptable (according to their world), but unmistakably large and unapologetic part of her.

When the mirth passes, his serious face comes back, his next question predictable. "What're you gonna do now? Going from this whole distance thing?"

The redhead sighs, leaning against the armchair, unaware that she had been sitting ramrod straight since the beginning of their session. "We're still going to do the adult thing and finish up what we started. After that though I'm not letting her go. Screw the world…I won't let another day pass that I'm not with her."

Kristoff sighs, dare she say it, dreamily? Before she can berate him for probably starting something she doesn't want to quite hear, a knock issues from the door, Sven's voice coming from outside of it and forcing both of their attention to flicker to its direction.

"Yeah, come in Sven," Kristoff calls, the door opening momentarily.

Sven's eyes first flickers to his brother and then to Anna. "Come outside…I think you might want to see this."

Her eyebrows stitch into an inadvertent frown, her therapist giving her a shrug before getting up from his chair and following the two of them out of the office. She only notices that it's late—the eleven o'clock news has just started and she promised Elsa she'd contact her prior. Sven pushes the volume up, gathering her attention to the news anchor: a blonde woman with too much make-up and sporting a red blazer to match just as red lipstick.

"…only a couple of weeks ago on May 10th," the anchorwoman states in a steady beat. "All of New York still mourns over the loss of the just judge Alexander Andersen and the brilliant senator Helene Andersen. In a surprising twist of what will most likely be a view of a change in times, conservative Senator Andersen's motion to change a nearly one hundred year old law in New York State has raised some eyebrows and even more-so vehement opposition.

"People are dubbing it 'The Next Gay Agenda', it being the unchanged codified kinship prohibition: punishment for the acts of sexual activity between lineal ancestor to descendant, siblings, and extended family. Currently, only a few states have leniency over this matter. Rhode Island has completely repealed all incest criminal statutes, Ohio targets only parental figures, and New Jersey applies penalties only for parties seventeen years and younger. According to close sources Senator Andersen, prior to her death, had been tirelessly working to change New York's prohibition degree on kinship to make it similar to New Jersey's, that is if both parties are over the consenting age, incest is thereby unpunishable by law. The first committee hearing is scheduled on June 21st. Currently, New York has a maximum penalty of twenty years imprisonment if convicted."

"'The Next Gay Agenda'?" the male anchor asks with a small smirk, sending the anchorwoman shrugging.

"That's what people are dubbing it."

"Regardless, it should make for an interesting next couple of weeks."

"It sure will."

"Holy shit…"

Sven mutes the television just in time for Kristoff's expletive, but Anna doesn't hear it. She can only stand there in mute horror, widened eyes searching a silent television for answers.

She's not sure what any of this means. She's not sure what kind of consequences this will inevitably bring her and, more importantly, Elsa. She knows for sure that her mom never mentioned this in her presence. She also knows that Helene would've wanted complete control over this subject matter—a moot point now that she's deceased.

One thought repeats in a frantic mantra, silent screams echoing in her mind: how will this affect her and her sister?

**AN: Hi! Yay, a plot? We're here? Yes…we're finally here. Hahaha. Umm…well first, sorry for the lack of updates last week. Umm…do I have an excuse for not updating? Kind of…I guess. It was my birthday and I didn't feel like writing all week…crap that sounds like a super bad excuse. Nonetheless I do apologize, but I hope the kind of long chapter makes up for it. Extra note…I guess my mind didn't really consider last chapter to be a "real" chapter…so that's why this chappy still had Elsa's POV as a majority. Oh well…I'm breaking some rules, might as well break them all :\ I shall endeavor to get the next chapter out as soon as possible, but honestly real life has been kicking my butt recently (add in a dash of procrastination and that equals zero writing time). Hope you guys are still with me. Through thick and thin…or so they say. **

**dragon matt blue: :) thank you**

**Misiu: Just reading it once is enough! What comes next could be (I haven't written it yet) pretty bumpy. **

**actionpotential: Hahaha nobody ever complains about this stuff! Maybe I should just write it all out like that (joking completely). **

**CanITellUSmThin: I like pressing my luck in public places while reading smut. I like to think I have a really good poker face on and people just think I'm going through boring e-mail. **

**kimou-san: God I have no idea how to respond to all these "this was good" comments. I mean…to say thank you sounds so…dubious. But yes…thank you. I have no idea where that dom stuff came from…it popped out of my head and it went straight to paper…yeesh…**

**iwantaparrot1: Can't be the best smut you've read! I disallow it! There's so much out there! Glad it was…enjoyable (yeah I can't say that without shaking my head like wtf are you saying to your reviewers?) but I'll probably toe the line from here on out. Considering that you're one of the guest anonymous's that asked about not writing their first time instead…I guess I answered it for you via PM, but I'll address it here as well. The author wasn't thinking properly…She doesn't know why the second (and third I suppose) was more important than the first…but that's how she wrote it and now she's highly disappointed in herself after the fact. I still have no idea how to rectify this…hahaha. **

**rurupeceaue: Haha uhhh…I'll do my…best? Honestly this was a shot in the dark. First to see if I could, and second if it's something I ended up liking. Definitely the hardest thing I've written in a while—I hate sounding crass and writing a sex scene is crass at its peak. G!P stories are weird. I shall…yeah Imma put that out there. And it's too bad they're borderline all the bad things in the world…seems like it shouldn't go that far, but hey…artistic license and all right? **

**FreelanceBum: FUCK! NO SERIOUSLY! THE FIRST TIME I WAS LIKE SHIT YOU SPELLED THAT PERSON'S NAME WRONG (nothing trips me out more than bad spelling) SO NEXT WEEK I MAKE IT A POINT TO MAKE IT RIGHT…AND STILL, ****_STILL_****. Sorry for the caps lock…and for getting the spelling of your name wrong multiple times. I shall try (with all my might) to not do that again. Gosh…the m looks like rn in my computer…-.-**

**Caliax: It just means you need to work on your poker face some more!**

**Devoted Fan: I think my work thrives on emotion and flashbacks…for some reason. I dunno…maybe trying to make it something more than it actually is /shrug. Go straight to sleep! Updates aren't that great…kind of…**

**Guest: :( I'm sorry last Monday wasn't very good. And this one changed to Sunday…I hope I can get back to my regular schedule. **

**Icy-Windbreeze: I swear, people reading these kinds of things in public places make me laugh. **

**Kurrent: The eloquence of your reviews always leave me baffled, so I'm sorry if this gets cut short by my inability to write good replies. Emotional growth feels like a recurring theme in all of my stories. Like…if I can get to point B and I know this character wasn't able to do this yet when they were stuck in point A it feels like I'm doing something right. I'm glad you were able to read past the smut and see the emotional value of it (not to say people didn't) but yeah…I've always favored the emotional aspect in everything favorable to the physical ones. It's certainly easier to write…**

**shtoops: Umm…we might not see anymore (well anytime soon I can't promise either or cuz I haven't written anything yet) dom/sub of either one. Honestly this felt like a one time thing, but apparently this story has a knack of writing whatever the hell it wants sometimes so, here's to hoping another chapter (or at least a scene) will pass through the radar. **

**SakuraAyanami: I feel like it's impossible for me to write based solely on their primitive urges. There has to be something emotional involved…Elsa will always find something to fret about. Seems she has her hands full in her side of the world though not as much as Anna. **

**barbara: I may need to write a list of this non-existent multi-chapter AU of my AU haha, although the scene that you paint there seems to be too angstsy for words. Explosive first time…yeah…would it be super awkward if I confess that it just…didn't come to mind? Cuz that's totally what happened. I feel like I dropped the ball heavy on this one…I mean…how can someone forget that? Oh god, Imma stop…imma stop right here…**

**Doesn't Matter42: Sorry if upon waiting for too long that you ended up reading it too many times, but I'm glad it was enjoyable. Writing smut (or erotica if that's the preferred label) exceptionally well was definitely not planned, but the positive feedback has been a good push in the right direction. **

**El Dragon: O.O Thank you. I swear…I really do want to come off as humbled whenever I get the "favorite or best" reviews, because I just don't see it (I'm my worst critic and all among other things), but thank you for the kind words and overall wonderful review. **

**kirbster676: Short secret, short angst…let's make everything short! Hahaha. Umm…I mean, I actually like prolonging angst in my other stories. It didn't work for these two (apparently) although in this fandom that may be a good thing. Churning out chapters in which they're dancing the topic will make this far longer than it already is…and it's already quite long. **

**Tripower: :D It's kind of surprising (and definitely sheepish worthy) that you put FwB at such a high esteem, but then again, you're the only one who's ever done a fan art for me and for that I put you in veritable high esteem as well. I miss H&M! I seriously do…I haven't visited that fandom in ages…:( When I get done with this, I seriously want to tackle another novel sized fic for that pairing. My serious OTP. **

**McHaudegen: I'm sorry this was hard to review. Honestly I must agree that it would've worked out fine without it, but hey…I started writing it and it avalanched to whatever last chapter was. I'm glad it translated well though. I guess it's safe to say that their first time that I failed to write or mention was definitely vanilla…but then that's just me saying it without actually proving it, which is really no point at all. As for Anna's "speech", she is definitely the more open one of the two and it stands to point that because she's the one who's new to it, she must constantly show Elsa that she's in this with her and not because she wants them to patch up w/e obstructions their past made. Elsa, although able to think this and literally dissect it like a science project, has only reticence because of having to shield the thoughts and feelings away for so long. Why am I even explaining this…I'm sure you're already quite aware…**

**Guest: Haha…sorry! Truly! I know it's Monday. It haunted me that it was Monday and I hadn't updated. You didn't sound rude. On the contrary you made me laugh…like the evil author that I am…Everything's okay w/ me and my family…real life just has a way of presenting itself. I'm guessing the very last review is yours too…so I'll just tag it along w/ this one. You forgot that I went to Hawaii! Definitely not the first week I missed updating, but I'll endeavor to try better next week (although gosh knows how it'll turn out). **

**Nocturne in A Minor: I'm going to put this out there…long reviews scare the crap out of me. I like them…don't get me wrong. But they scare me…so much, cuz I suck at constructive criticism, and if it's a long review, there's bound to be a boatload of constructive criticism. I can't seem to take it like regular people…anyway…sorry to greet you in that manner, but let's get into it. TBH as I mentioned before, I considered "Interlude" as a kind of stand alone chapter. I mean…of course you have to read all of it in order to get to that part, but reading it wasn't important to the rest of the story, although I guess you kind of miss out on some Elsa character development. Why only in Elsa's PoV? I have no idea…The more I reply to people, the more I feel as if maybe last chapter was a half assed effort, but I promise it really wasn't. And I'm quite aware of Anna's lack of perspective, but maybe I should just scrap all of it and do it on both of their perspective…and do their first time cuz apparently that was all wrong too…Huh…/sigh…I feel like I kinda let people down last chapter HAHAHA. Aww…anyway…umm Anna…We're delving into her psyche next chapter. Kinda went in it on this one and I'm not sure if that's enough. The plot might take it elsewhere and it might be too late to show more of her feelings (reluctance, realizations) towards her sister since they're already together. Hmm…I dropped the ball…damn it. SMH. I really don't mean to downplay Anna's PoV though. Between the two of them, it feels like she got the shorter end of the stick (as she did in the movie) and I guess I just didn't show the progression of her feelings good enough. Regardless, I'm going to stop my blather because I have a feeling it's not coming out very well. I do appreciate the review (truly) and I hope to do a better job within the allowable timeframe/PoV. **

**kenfromnhus: Thank you. Glad the smut was better than most you've read. **


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